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#be okay in the end whatevers going on just ! ! ! ! scary ! ! !  very scary and i keep feeling things that dont feel normal. i just want to
alphalesbian · 2 years
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No offense but I deserve to be healthy ! ! !
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fraugwinska · 14 days
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I know canonically Alastor doesn't sleep but let's assume it's not because he doesn't have to but because he doesn't want to - he feels powerless and vulnerable when he sleeps, also he is tormented by nightmares.
What if one night everyone is waken up by hotel almost falling apart: walls are cracking, everything is shaking, and a green glow is flowing through the corridors. Turns out, Alastor is asleep and having a very bad nightmare. And unless they want the hotel to fall apart, someone has to wake Alastor up... (reader volunteers as a tribute)
LOTS of angst with a comfor ending? :)
You ask, Anon - and I deliver (at last)! Thank you for being so patient with me! Today just felt right to write this, and I sincerely hope you find it worth the wait! <3 TW: Depictions of Blood - Minors DNI - 2.8k words
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The Eye of the Storm
"What the fuck is going on?!"
Another loud boom shakes the ground of the corridor, almost making you trip and fall if not for the handrail you managed to grab. Angels door opened at the other end, a scared squeal of Fat Nuggets faintly audible as Angel stumbled out, clearly as startled and scared as you.
"Fuck, toots, what is that?"
"I have no idea!"
You had no idea, but whatever was causing it, the entire building was shaking like in an earthquake and you were terrified some of the older, worn out parts of your floor could collapse any moment. The cracks on the walls were growing with every rumble, and a bright, green glow had overtook the lamps, turning the usually warm and inviting space into an eerie nightmare.
You exchanged a terrified look with Angel, both of you unsure what to do next. He hurried over to you, his piglet shaking in two of his arms, taking your hand with his free one and pulled you with him. "C'mon, we need to find Charlie, before the fucking ceiling falls on our heads."
You didn't even have the time to reply before the lights went off, a terrified scream leaving your mouth before you could stop it. You heard a string of curses from Angel and felt him squeeze your hand tighter. The both of you ran down the stairs as fast as you were able to in the dim darkness. You tripped several times, but Angel held you steady, trying his best to not fall himself. The lights went on again with another rumble, making the stairway moan like it was in pain.
"Charlie! Vaggie!"
You reached the lobby, where you found the rest of the residents already gathered. Everyone was there, looking shaken and confused, but unharmed. You saw them look around and then up to the ceiling, the cracking of the wood and walls sounding louder and more violent than upstairs.
"Ey, you two, are yo' hurt?" Husk yelled over the noise, his eyes scanning Angel with a worried look.
You shook your head, letting the spiders hand go so he could run up to Husk, who took his pig into his arms and hugged Angel close.
"Is everyone alright? Where's Niffty... and Alastor?" Charlie's voice sounded shaky, and you could tell she was doing her best to keep calm and not freak out.
"I'm here!" The little cyclops girl appeared behind Sir Pentious's hat, her eye wide. "But I think Alastor's not okay."
"What do you mean?" Vaggie asked, her hands stiff on Charlies trembling shoulders.
Niffty looked around, biting her lip. "He has bad dreams sometimes, and he's really scary when he does, and then stuff like this happens. He can't control his powers, and-"
"Wait, so it's HIM who's causing all of this?" Vaggie's eye widened in anger and another boom made the whole lot of you duck as the glasses from the bar fall from their shelves, flooding the floor with shards of glass and debris.
"Yes, but he can't help it, it's his brain messing up! We need to help him!"
Vaggie cursed, while Charlie and the others started to ramble over another.
"Someone has to wake him up, before the hotel really collapses."
"Are 'ya crazy, Charls? We can't go in there!"
"Yeah, at this state, yo' won't know that fucker won't rip yo' to shreds befo' you even reach his room."
"It'ssss better to evacuate, I think."
"And leave the building to fall into pieces? Ugh, maldito idiota de la radio..."
Your head turned worriedly back to the green glowing corridor. Alastor. What the hell kind of bad dream would make him lose control over his powers like that? Niffty said it was his brain messing up, whatever that meant - did he really suffer from nightmares? You felt a sting of worry for the deer demon. You didn't even want to imagine the kind of terrors he had to have in his head to cause something like this.
"I'm gonna go."
Everyone stopped talking and looked at you. Husk gave you an incredulous look, still holding Angel and the pig in his arms. "Y-yo' can't be serious. That's straight-up suicide."
You shook your head. "Someone has to. I'll be fine, just... get out of here, wait outside and make sure no one is getting hurt."
Angel tore himself out of the cat demons grasp, taking you by your shoulders, his eyes pleading. "Toots, Alastor is not himself right now. He can't control what the fuck he's doing, and if he hurts 'ya, I don't... Please, don't do this, that bastard ain't worth it."
You knew the spider demon was worried, and you appreciated your friends' concern, but he didn't know the Radio Demon as well as you did. You were aware of his reputation, the stories of his atrocities and his sadistic nature. You knew how cruel and unforgiving he could be, but you also knew that over the last few weeks, he had shown you a softer, less menacing side. You and him bonded over his love of cooking and your love of eating what he prepared, over your shared interest for record players and classical music and your affinity to magic and the obscure. He could be a lot of things, but he wasn't just the bloodthirsty serial killer most of the denizens of hell made him out to be.
You gave the spider a smile, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Don't worry about me, Angel, it's going to be alright. He's my friend, I can't just leave him in there to get crushed by the building."
Before you could be held back, you started to run towards the stairs. Charlie cried out to you, but you ignored her, you just took a last glance back, shouting as you vanished into the darkness.
"Just trust me, and get your asses out of here."
"Fuck."
The group stood there, unsure what to do, and a loud snap coming from the second floor made them turn and run for the doors.
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The higher you climbed the stairs, the more intense the shaking and rumbling got. You had to crawl on the steps at times, because it was too dangerous to walk, and you didn't trust your legs not to give way under you. The walls were splitting, the green light was burning in the lamps, and the air was crackling with what seemed like dark magic, ominous glowing symbols appearing and fading in your vicinity.
When you finally reached Alastor's door, it was already hanging from the hinges. It had probably blown when the magic started to burst out in violent waves, the green glow brightly pulsating and threatening from within the inside. You wondered if your heart could beat any faster without giving way. It wasn't the first time you were scared witless, hell wasn't exactly a carnival. But as much as you believed the best about Alastor, he still was one of hell's most powerful overlords. He still had countless bodies in his name. You trusted him, but if Niffty and the others were right - and it seemed to be the case that they were - he had little to no control over himself when lost in a nightmare. Could a demon like him sleepwalk and kill you in their sleep?
You took a breath and squared your shoulders, turning around to call into the room, not daring to set a foot inside yet.
"Alastor? It's me. Can you hear me?"
The rattling of the sudden radio static made the framed pictures on the wall shatter to the ground, and from the edge of your field of vision you noticed the lights fade once more, turning the already ghost-like bedroom almost black. You reached for the doorway and lowered your voice.
"It's me, you have to listen, okay? It's okay. I just came to check on you. It's safe now. You are safe."
No answer, again. The darkness felt suffocating, as if it was about to crush you any minute. You felt dizzy, disoriented, like a rabbit that had caught the eyes of a fox. You didn't dare say anything else, not until you could at least see him, figure out what was going on. With shaking legs, you took a step over the threshold. The lamps flickered again and you tried your best not to stumble as you scanned the room in front of you in between the shutters of brightness for traces of the other demon.
When you found him, you had to bite down a cry of horror.
You wished you hadn't.
He was curled up and violently shaking on his bed, the covers ripped and laying in pieces around his sweating body. His head was almost between his knees, hair spiky and disheveled and his overgrown and twisted antlers slicing the mattress and pillows with every tremor rushing through him. You could barely see him, the flickering lights making his face obscured in the shadows, but what you could see made your heart sink. He was sobbing in between shattering breaths, his chest heaving up and down erratically and his claws digging deep ridges into his torso as his body jerked and twisted, blood pooling into the covers in deep red.
"Al." You couldn't control yourself anymore. The shock, the dread and worry freed your legs from their stupor and you rushed to the hunched form, nearly stumbling on the ripped fabrics.
His eyes flew open at the touch of your fingers, burning in bright crimson with ticking dials as irises, almost completely overtaking his entire eye sockets. The howling of radio static screeched from his lips as the room shook again as he bared his sharp teeth, his clawed hands swiping at you with violent intensity that send you flying on the ground. You tried to catch yourself, but fell to your side, letting out a pained cry as you felt the wound on your waist, dripping with blood and split wide open.
You watched him with wide eyes as his limbs grew, afraid to even move. His stare was petrifying you, you had never seen such violent, uncontrolled expression on him. He growled, his head turning towards you, his mouth, no, maw opening. He looked like he wasn't there anymore, that nothing left was inside besides a manic creature ready to slaughter everything it crossed. A nightmarish beast in its lair that had cornered a small helpless prey, ready to be swallowed alive.
He got up in one swift motion, the pieces of fabric that once were bedcovers flying through the air and a dark aura creeping into your vicinity. Your breath hitched. You couldn't get out of his range with him like that, the open wound kept you from moving fast, and his maw was so big it seemed he could rip you apart by just inhaling.
"Alastor, it's okay. It's me." you breathed, desperate not to lose hope. There must be something that could call to him in the deepest parts of his mind, something that could snap him out of this lucidity. You scrambled back as he stepped in front of you, lowering his head to meet your eye level. His claws dragged on the floor beside him, and in a sudden, swift move, his large hands grasped you, the pressure on the gash blindingly painful.
"I-It's okay, it's not y-you, it's just a bad dream. I'm here to h-help you. Let me..." You gasped, a sob leaving your throat as his claws started to dig into you.
"Nnnghh... Y...-you c..c-c-an't ...-he..lp...m...m-e-e.."
A snarl left his lips and he raised his face into the air, his arms lifting you effortlessly and you whimpered in fear. Pushing through the hazy fog that invaded your brain, you tried again.
"Please, Al, j-just look at me. Wake up a-and look at me. You'll be okay."
"W...-why d-d..id..-.yo...-u co..-m-e... -h..e-re...?"
The blood loss was making you feel faint, and you lifted a bloody hand, desperate to touch him, to reach the man behind the monster. With blurry eyes, you brushed his cheek, his face just near enough your fingertips reached the fizzing skin. It felt like dipping your hand in pure electricity, numbing and painful, but you didn't care.
"Because you a-are scared and h-hurting, and I care about y-you. What f-friend would I be if I l-let you s-suffer alone?"
At your words, his enormous form shivered, and you felt his grip on you loosen ever so slightly. The dials fixed on you were still ticking, but the red of his eyes dimmed. Your other hand came up, slowly, to take the other side of his face.
"Can you wake up for me, Alastor?"
More growling, more shaking.
"Pl-please. Wake up and come b-back to me."
His eyes flicked, the howling static became more hushed and his ears twitched under the forks of his antlers. You took a shuddering breath of relief as the animalistic stare on his face lost its threatening gaze and felt the buzz under your fingers slowly dying down. The sharpness under your hands subsided fully as you saw Alastor shrink back, slowly becoming aware again of his surroundings. The green glow that filled the room flickered and turned into the familiar oranges and reds. You held onto his face and his eyes, not daring to let him go until he had finally settled and transformed back into his regular form, the last clicks of the vanishing dials fading as his irises turned to dim reds once again.
"What happened. Why are you..." The sound of his familiar voice was all you wanted to hear now. As your legs gave away, you didn't fall however, Alastor's slender hands were quick to catch you, his smile confused and irritated. He let his eyes travel down your arms to the wound and pools of crimson surrounding you, and back at your face, now pale.
"What do you think you are doing, dear." he breathed, settling you down slowly on the ground.
"You had a nightmare. The hotel... everything was chaos. I had to come, had to... get you out of it." you stammered, watching him looking around to see the damage, his face warped in realization as he put the pieces together.
"Fuck!"
It was rare to hear the usually so poised and reserved Radio Demon swear, but for this situation you'd agree it was entirely appropriate. But the hotel still stood and he was back, and that was all that mattered. When he took you up in his arms and buried his face in your neck, you felt the more alive than in the whole time on earth.
"You foolish girl. You could've been killed by my hands."
You let him embrace you, his long arms circling around you protectively and his forehead resting on the hollow of your throat.
"But I wasn't." you said simply, smiling weakly into his hair. Your arms felt heavy but they still managed to find their way onto his back, reassuring and tender, letting him know you were fine, mangled maybe, but alive and there. You stayed that way for a moment, both of you unable to move or say something as you found some grounding in each other's warmth and the now peaceful silence.
The quiet was broken, however, when you heard frantic footsteps in the hall outside and the uproarious group of the hotel staff came charging through the opened door, halting when they saw your display. Alastor didn't lift his head, in fact, he didn't move at all. You turned your head, your hand barely leaving his back to give the speechless group a lazy wave.
"Are 'ya ok? I'll kill 'im if 'yer not, I don't give a shi-"
"You were so incredibly brave, oh gosh, look at all this blood. Vaggie, we need to get the first aid kit!"
"I'll get my mop! And a broom, look at the mess!"
"Aye, this fucker really owes you."
"Umm... this is rather... Should we give thossse two a moment?"
"Lo juro por Dios, un día de estos lo voy a matar..."
Through the mass of noise the others made, talking and fussing and scurrying, you heard Alastor's quiet whisper against your bloodied skin, loud and clear.
"Thank you, dearest."
You smiled, closing your eyes and holding him a bit tighter, even if it made your wounded side sting.
"It's okay, Al. What else are friends for?"
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toournextadventure · 5 months
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a novel life pt.2
Summary: You're trying to make nice with Sam's little sister, for everyone's sake. Maybe it leads to an interrogation. Maybe it leads to more. And maybe you end up sucked into the unusual events that follow Legacies
Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, distrust, mentions of past trauma, mentions of blood, mentions of Scream typical violence Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Yule, and whatever holidays y'all all celebrate 🫶 (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)
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“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked as you nearly tripped over your feet.
Sam gave you a look that was both sweet and condescending. “Yes, because I said so.”
“That doesn’t seem like solid reasoning,” you mumbled, but nonetheless continued following her up the steps to her apartment.
It was nearing Halloween, with the cooling air finally allowing for the use of jackets. Which you had few of, since Sam had decided to keep them for herself. Not that there was anyone to blame but yourself; it was what you deserved for offering her jackets every time she forgot one. She had simply decided it was rather nice to have an unlimited selection of jackets, both too-large and just right.
In all her wisdom, Sam had suggested the two of you, and Tara and her partner have a movie night. Tara got to choose the movie, and no one could object. All in all it should have been a win for the younger Carpenter; she could make you suffer if she truly wanted, and you couldn’t say a word about it. Which was going to cause the night to be very, very long.
Oh, the things you would do for her.
“Is she going to pick something scary?” You asked before you both approached the door. “Because I don’t like scary.”
“I have no doubt it will be scary,” Sam said with a barely-concealed smile. “I’ll hold your hand to keep you safe.”
“You’re my hero,” you said as you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. She tasted strongly of the cigarette she had smoked on the way from your apartment to hers.
You tried to pull away, but she quickly followed, keeping her lips pressed against yours. Every sense was enveloped by her. Her smell, her taste, the feel of her body pressed against yours so tightly it was as if you would float away without her. There was nothing you could have ever wanted more than your Sam.
“We shouldn’t give Tara something to be upset about,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips when she finally pulled back just the slightest distance.
“Tara’s always upset,” she answered before sighing, “but you’re right.”
“Baby steps,” you said with a smile.
“For the big baby.”
“Samantha.”
“I’m kidding,” she tried to argue as she grabbed your hand and started finally moving into the apartment.
You both knew she wasn’t kidding.
“My dude!”
You had barely walked through the door when Tara’s partner called out to you, a genuine, toothy grin visible on their face. They had asked you to call them J, which you had happily agreed to. Sam teased that it was short for Joker - you assumed because of the scars - but the look on Tara’s face told you not to ever bring it up. Ever.
It was a rule you could oblige by.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said as you hung your coat on the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. It had only taken you dropping your coat once before you realised the Carpenters saw no need for a coat rack.
How utterly uncivilised.
“They think it’s a pleasure to see me,” J said to Tara, who rolled her eyes almost instantly. 
You would never say it aloud, but you noticed the small smile she sent their way. So, she wasn’t as heartless as she wanted you to believe. Exactly like her older sister. It would be simple enough to chalk it down to their past experiences with the world; it had taught them nothing but hardness. But maybe they both just needed a safe space to let those walls come down.
“What did you choose?” Sam asked. She very quickly made her way to the couch opposite Tara and J.
“Depends,” they said.
“On?” Sam asked.
J turned to look at you and held something up to their mouth. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice came out almost robotic, sounding similar to… something you possibly recognised? Vaguely?
“That’s not funny,” Sam said quickly.
“Lighten up, Sam,” Tara said even though she pushed J’s hand - and the voice changer - into their lap. “We’re watching Hellraiser.”
“Thought you didn’t like that one,” Sam said. She reached over and grabbed your hand the moment you sat down beside her on the couch.
Tara’s eyes darted to where your hands were joined and lingered. “I don’t.” She looked back up at you with a hard gaze. “I picked it out just for you.”
“Oh,” you said, perking up instantly. “Thank you.”
You turned to look at Sam with a stupid smile on your face, missing the look J sent Tara. Well, this was turning into a lovely evening! Tara had picked out a movie just for you! Surely that was progress to the finest degree, was it not? If all it took was watching a movie with them every month, you were more than happy to do so. This was turning out to be a rather lovely evening.
At least you thought so until the movie started and you realised just exactly why Tara had picked the movie out just for you.
It was… well, it was a movie. Filled with hooks and needles and… blood. Oh gosh, so much blood. There was a singular blessing amongst it all; you hadn’t eaten before coming over. Thankfully the popcorn sat untouched between you and Sam as your stomach twisted and turned and tried its best to embarrass you.
Sam squeezed your hand as you did your best to keep your cool. Not that it was such an easy thing with all the… you couldn’t even think the word without feeling queasy. Surely there was no way they all enjoyed this kind of thing, right? It was grotesque! The creatures on the screen, the inhumanity of it all, how was it an enjoyable movie?
The room started to shrink around you. Oh, that wasn’t good, you didn’t want to feel claustrophobic, you were trying to be tough. You couldn’t let anyone know that you had an, um, aversion to blood. What would they say? They were all horror fans, how could you ever possibly mention that you just… didn’t enjoy it? Quite frankly, it made you sick to your stomach, like all those science experiments you had to do back in grade school.
The credits couldn’t have rolled a moment too soon. If anyone were to ask you what you thought, you wouldn’t have been able to answer. The only thing you were aware of was your heart beating loudly in your ear and the saliva that continued to fill your mouth. Maybe it would actually be better if you didn’t try to answer anyone for a few more moments.
“So, Professor,” Tara asked all too soon. “What did you think?”
“I-”
-You cut yourself short. There was a part, a rather significant part of your mind that said you should lie. Tell Tara it was a wonderful movie, and you would love to see more if it existed. But lying had never gotten you anywhere in the past, had it? It certainly wasn’t going to assist you in winning over Tara, not when she was already sceptical of you. How was a lie going to assist you?
It wasn’t. 
“It’s not my cup of tea,” you finally said before swallowing the remaining saliva in your mouth. “I don’t really enjoy scary movies.” You nodded to yourself. “Or blood.”
“Oh my god,” Tara huffed, “why can’t you just lose your shit about something?”
“Tara,” Sam warned.
“No, this is ridiculous,” she continued as she stood up from the couch, ignoring J reaching for her hand. “Why can’t you lose your shit?” She pointed at you. “Nobody is this level-headed about everything.”
“That’s enough,” Sam said as she followed suit, standing up from the couch. Similarly, you reached out for her hand but she moved just far enough away.
“Get out,” Tara said before promptly looking Sam dead in the eyes.
“Excuse me?” Sam asked.
“Get out,” she repeated.
“Hey, T-”
“-You too,” Tara interrupted J, who froze with a comically shocked expression on their face. “Both of you get out so I can talk to them-” she pointed at you “-alone.”
“Absolutely not-”
“-Sounds reasonable,” you interrupted Sam. She looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would love to talk.”
“Come on, Baby Ghost,” J said as they stood up. You were starting to feel left out by being the only one still sitting. “I’ll buy you a new pack of cigs.”
Sam looked like she wanted to argue, but both you and Tara gave her a look. Differing looks, of course, but still. While Tara seemed to get her a death stare that was almost permanently etched onto her face, you tried to go the more convincing route. If Tara wanted to talk, who were you to tell her no? Talking was key, that’s what your family had always done and it had never ended poorly.
“Fine,” Sam finally said. She seemed resigned. “But you have 15 minutes and that’s it.”
“Deal,” Tara said. “Now get out.”
You stayed as still as a statue when Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. A little more forceful than usual, but you wouldn’t complain. Any kiss from her was perfect. A sigh came from behind her, and you both knew who it was from, but she took her time before pulling away and standing back up.
“Don’t let her bully you,” she said.
“Sam,” Tara said forcefully. “Get out.”
“Fine,” Sam said, throwing her hands up. “But I mean it,” she said as she and J walked to the door together. “15 minutes.”
You and Tara both watched your partners leave the apartment, practically abandoning you to the force of nature that was the youngest Carpenter sister. It shamed you to admit you were a little afraid of her. You knew there was something going on deep down that she either wouldn’t or couldn’t accept, and you wouldn’t dare fault her for it. But she let her internal frustrations out in a very external way.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tara asked the moment the door shut behind the two. You stayed silent. “You don’t yell, you don’t scream, you don’t even freak out when I put on a movie I knew you would hate.”
You waited a moment to make sure she was finished. “I was raised by two very… pacifistic parents,” you said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch opposite you. “We talked through our issues, we didn’t yell about them.”
Tara opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, or complain, or something. Slowly, her mouth closed and she pursed her lips. She kept looking at you, but slowly took a seat opposite you. There was something going on behind her eyes, you could see it, but you knew better than to question her just yet. Just like your mom had taught you; let them lead the conversation.
“I don’t trust you,” she said slowly. Her eyes stayed locked with yours. “You’re too understanding and too kind.” You stayed silent. “Sam only ever falls for freaks.”
“Didn’t she date an FBI agent?” You asked. You could vaguely remember what Sam had said about her, but she had seemed nice enough.
“Kirby is cool, I’ve always liked her,” Tara said with a dismissive shake of her head. “But she was attacked by Ghostface twice,” she said, “so she’s a freak by proxy.” She looked back at you. “So what’s your deal?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said, “ask your questions and maybe you can find out.”
It had initially been your idea, but before Tara could even open her mouth you started to second guess yourself. Perhaps allowing her to ask whatever questions she wanted without any repercussions was… not the smartest idea on your part. You had nothing to hide, but what if she really started to ask unusual questions? What if your answers weren’t what she wanted to hear?
But when you thought of Sam, and being with her, you felt that, without question, it was worth the gamble.
“Have you ever used a knife?” Tara asked quickly. It seemed she wasn’t going to wait.
“Not outside of cooking,” you answered just as quickly.
“How about a gun?” So, it would be a rapid fire interrogation. Game on.
“Never.”
“Ever hurt anybody before?” A tilt of her head.
“Not on purpose.”
“What about animals?”
“No.”
“Not even in science class?”
“I-” you attempted to clear your throat to buy a bit of time “-I fell ill that day.”
Tara paused and narrowed her eyes. “Because of blood.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” you said anyway. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You’re pretty pathetic,” Tara said as she leaned back on the couch. For the first time in… well, ever, you thought you almost saw her smile at you. “That’s exactly Sam’s type.”
“I thought you said it was freaks,” you pointed out.
“Pathetic freaks,” she corrected quickly. That quirk near the corner of her mouth rapidly disappeared. “Why did you choose Sam?”
You paused. It was uncertain what exactly Sam had told Tara about you both meeting. Surely she wouldn’t have overdramatised it, but had she told her the truth? The truth was… well, it was pathetic as well, but you weren’t entirely convinced Tara would approve. Not that it was entirely her place, but the two were the only family each other had. They both had a right to be cautious of anyone new coming into their lives.
But perhaps you could answer the question a little differently.
“She’s kind,” you said with a subconscious nod of your head. “And bold, and intelligent - god she’s intelligent - and brave.” You averted Tara’s eyes. “And she’s really pretty too.”
Tara nodded once. “What are your intentions with her?”
Another question that you believed was potentially a trick. You couldn’t very well say you loved Sam just yet; you hadn’t even told Sam that little piece of information. But there were other intentions with her even if you didn’t necessarily use the word “love.” There were other things that were just as important.
“I don’t want to sound overly self-important,” you started off, looking back up to meet Tara’s eyes. “But I would very much like to be the one by Sam’s side as she continues on this path she’s created for herself.”
Tara looked at you; really looked at you. She was so very difficult for you to read. Unlike Sam, Tara did a better job at hiding her emotions. While Sam would give it away with her facial expressions, Tara did not. No, her feelings came out differently, whether in the slight twitch of her fingers or the impatient tapping of her foot on the rug. You hadn’t been around her long enough to know what exactly those feelings were, you simply acknowledged they were feelings.
“I’ll give you a chance,” Tara finally said, her voice far softer than you had ever heard. At least when it was directed at you. “But if you do anything to hurt her, or upset her, or lie to her, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” You gulped. “I’m not afraid to kill again.”
“I forgot you’ve both killed someone before,” you mumbled to yourself before speaking up louder. “Those are acceptable terms.”
“Good,” she said with a single nod of her head. “But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you.”
You could both hear the other two finally approaching the door, bickering in a way that mimicked biological siblings.
“I would expect nothing less,” you told Tara as the door opened and the moment ended.
—---
The rest of the semester went by without incident. Tara had stayed true to her word and gave you a fair chance to prove that you could be trusted with her sister’s heart, and it wasn’t something you had taken lightly. You knew how important the both of them were to each other, and you had done your best to prove that not only did you care for Sam, but you cared for Tara too.
She had finally eased up during classes, allowing you to properly teach without an ounce of disdain for you personally. In fact, she had even dared to come to office hours on more than one occasion to discuss certain pieces you had offered as optional readings. The Carpenters were immensely intelligent, no matter what the subject matter was.
You and Sam had fallen into a rather comfortable routine, always going for a date night on Thursdays to whatever new place your colleagues had recommended, and movies with Tara and J on Saturdays. You would spend the night at her place Thursday through Monday morning, and she would stay at yours Monday through Thursday morning. It was comfortable, and you were more than content.
But with school finally over for the semester, you could focus on the real gem; Christmas.
Both Carpenters - and J, for that matter - had been nonchalant with their decorations. A minimal Charlie Brown tree that had, at most, four ornaments on it. It was awfully quaint, and if they hadn’t been so blase about it you would have been content to leave it standing. Nevertheless, they had made it clear they didn’t care if there were any decorations, and you had taken that as a cry for help.
Your own apartment had, of course, been decorated since the day after Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful gift from your mother, learning how to decorate for the holidays, and you weren’t keen on squandering the skills and letting them fall off the wagon, so to speak. Sam had made a few comments, though you hadn’t taken her for a non-believer.
“It’s okay, really,” Sam tried to say when you and J finished bringing in what had to have been the seventh box of decorations from your apartment.
“Oh no, I insist,” you said with a smile. “Besides, my mother would be downright dismayed if she knew the decorations were sitting in my apartment unused.”
“Great,” Tara mumbled as she walked by without even offering to help, “we get to live at the North Pole.”
“Isn’t it exciting?” You said with a smile. “These are more neutral, so you shouldn’t feel too out of place, but they still embody the holiday spirit.”
“Well I think it’ll be fun,” J said with their own smile. “Do I get to hang the ornaments?”
“Why-”
“-the ornaments won’t be the only thing hanging this Christmas,” Tara said, tossing a mini marshmallow into the air and catching it in her mouth. “Especially with those blinding lights.”
You looked down at the ones in your hand and frowned. “I thought they were rather tame.”
“And they’re lovely,” Sam tried to cover, even though you could see the fake smile she had on her face. “You’re doing great,” she continued as she left a simple kiss on your cheek.
The decorating ended up being a one person job, you quickly realised when you discovered J could not, for the life of them, listen to instructions. More than once, the lights had been blown and you had to find the faulty one to fix it. Normally you would chalk it down to bad luck, but when it was only the ones that they were installing? You became a little suspicious.
At least they were all eager to help with the snacks and desserts, and that was something you could live with. Surprisingly, Tara was the one who had the most ideas. You knew you weren’t the best cook; you could follow instructions but that didn’t necessarily mean they would turn out nice. But with Tara at the helm? They were almost as good as your mother’s! Though obviously you would never dare to tell her that.
You also rather quickly discovered that they were not gift giving people. Understandable, you supposed, they had much more important things to worry about in life. It was still unacceptable. The moment you had found out, you had called your parents and told them the tragic news.
Gifts for all three of them - plus a gift each for Mindy, Chad, and Anika - had been delivered to your house within the week. Express shipping to be certain they would arrive before Christmas.
Which led to yet another tragedy; they had no stockings.
“It’s really not worth buying,” Sam attempted to persuade you over the phone on one of the rare nights you two weren’t spending together. “Just stay home tonight.”
“It’s no trouble, Sam,” you argued. “I’m heading out for a bit anyway.”
You didn’t admit you were already at the store, trying to decide which one would fit each person best.
“Just stay safe,” she said. You could hear car horns in the background but thought nothing of it. “I mean it.”
“I’ll be safe,” you insisted, “I always am.”
“Call me when you’re back home,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” you said with a smile that she couldn’t see.
She hung up first, and you continued your search without any second thoughts. In the end, you had decided on a Santa stocking for J, a reindeer for Tara, and a snowman for Sam. They would look lovely hanging underneath the mounted television in their living room. But with the stockings, you needed things to fill them with.
Santa’s work was never finished.
It was dark by the time you finished buying everything you believed you needed. Stockings, fillers, and some snacks to make for a lovely evening. That should surely be enough to give the three of them a very merry Christmas, would it not? Your mother had already sent their Santa presents, and their other presents were underneath the tree, so as far as you were aware of at the moment, everything was taken care of.
You were still going over your mental checklist when you heard a commotion down one of the alleys on the way home. Every cell in your body told you not to bother looking; people got desperate around the holidays and it would do you no good to go poking your head where it didn’t belong. But if someone was getting hurt, then you needed to attempt to help.
Or at least make enough of a scene that someone else would come help.
“Excuse me?” You called out foolishly as you started down the dark alleyway. “Is everyone alright out there?”
You pulled your coat tighter around you as you continued walking. It hadn’t been raining or snowing recently, and yet something started to soak through your shoes and socks. The shocking cold that normally came from liquids in December wasn’t present; it was warm.
There was another noise. It almost sounded like something solid, but it was overshadowed by something metallic. You did your best to see something in the dark, even as your body continued to tell you to move along. But something didn’t feel right; you were feeling queasy again.
Something hissed in front of you, but it wasn’t a snake. No, you knew what those sounded like and this wasn’t even close. This sounded much more human, though that sound would only ever really happen in dire circumstances like if-
-a large white mask faced you. It was the only thing you could see in the dark, thanks to the lights behind you causing just enough radiance to make the mask almost seem luminescent. You weren’t a movie buff, especially not scary movies, but you weren’t stupid. Everyone knew what that mask was.
Ghostface.
All those cells that had been telling you to run? They were silent. Frozen in fear, just like your mind. The killer wasn’t moving toward you, simply facing you, almost as if it was the very reason you were stationary. Which, it was, but not in the typical way that most would be privy to. You felt like a deer in headlights, and if you moved then you died.
You supposed that was how all the movies went.
“Aren’t you going to run?” Ghostface asked, in that same voicebox that J had had during the movie night.
You swallowed the saliva filling your mouth. “No,” you said in a trembling voice.
“Why not?” He continued. “I like when they run.”
“I’m not very fast,” you said. “You’ll catch me before I get to the street.”
He still didn’t move, and your eyes finally adjusted enough to see the silhouette of a body slumped at his feet. Your throat constricted at the sight; you were going to be sick. The very image started to worm its way into your brain; there was a very simple explanation for what was still soaking through your socks. It wasn’t snow.
“You should get home, Professor,” Ghostface said.
You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if he could see you. “Yes I should.”
“Stay on the sidewalk next time,” he said.
“I- I believe that’s sound advice,” you said with more frantic nods of your head. Your palms were starting to get clammy.
Ghostface lifted up a hand - holding a knife - and waved. “Good night, Professor.”
“Good night,” you said with your own shaky wave.
You walked backwards out of the alley, keeping an eye on the figure until it was completely out of sight. Your feet were frozen on the ground once you were under a street light. There were no more sounds coming from the alley, not even the sound of someone leaving. Wherever Ghostface had gone, he hadn’t followed you.
In an incredibly brave moment, you leaned over and vomited directly into a storm grate before going back home. You called Sam the moment you got back into your apartment.
You couldn’t find the courage to inform her of the night’s mystery encounter.
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cinnamostar · 5 months
Text
four dates to fall in love
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part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five. part six coming soon.
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.7k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability
a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!
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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.
You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”
You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”
“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”
“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”
“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”
Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”
He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”
“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.
“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”
He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”
You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”
“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”
“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”
“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”
“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”
“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”
You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”
“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”
“I’ll believe you just this once!”
“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”
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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.
Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.
A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.
You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.
“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.
“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”
Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”
“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”
“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.
You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”
He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.
“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 
“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”
“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.
Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 
The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 
“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 
“It does, right? Let’s eat!”
Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”
“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”
“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.
“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.
Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”
He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 
“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.
He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”
His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”
It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.
“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”
The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.
“Really, I mean it.”
“I missed it too.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”
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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months
Text
My dear lgbt+ kids,
I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.
Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.
Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).
What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?
Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.
I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?
We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!
I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.
You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.
With all my love,
Your Tumblr Dad
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theblueflower05 · 9 months
Text
So I’m at work feeling particularly yuck(it’s okay I have a vacation coming up) and I don’t want to be in this office anymore-
So I escaped into my brain and conjured up maybe the most delicious maladaptive day dream ever.
Ao’nung x reader x Neteyam-
But the reader is human.
A human who was sent on the second wave to Pandora. And experiment of sorts. She sold her body to science and got a surgery that makes her able to breath Pandoran air(listen, logistics don’t matter)
She turned on the RDA and set out to warn Jake and the other rebel scientists about impending doom.
Blah blah blah.
She ends up in Awa’atlu with the crew.
And she can’t deny the hot rush of overwhelmed butterflies she gets when she catches the Matkayinan Prince staring at her.
Ao’nung is a slut. He loves pleasure; giving receiving it you name it. He’s slept around a lot and he’s very curious about the pretty little sky demon with wide hips and thick thighs. He wants to see what her full breasts look like when they’re not caged by her tawtute clothing-
Neteyam is having none of that shit.
He claims it’s because it’s on him to keep an eye on you like his dad had commanded back when you’d first come to them in the forest. You’re just another responsibility.
It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been obsessed with you from the moment he met you. That the idea of another Na’vi trying to mate you makes him sick to his stomach.
Circumstances happen. Shit goes down.
Somehow you find yourself being courted by two fully grown, blooded royal male Na’vi.
And it’s like.
A lot.
A lot a lot. They’re overbearing and devoted and you’re just a human girl who’s always had intimacy and commitment issues.
All the attention feels as good as it does scary.
You get gifts of all kinds; jewelry and clothing, food by the pile. Pretty little trinkets that glow and glitter.
Ao’nung takes you to special secret places on the island. Goregous waterfalls and hidden tide pools.
Neteyam takes you on magical ikran rides, you soar above the sherbet clouds.
When you begin pushing them away- not able to choose and deciding that really it’s best that you’re alone anyway.
They form an unlikely alliance.
They both want you. They’ll just have to share.
Now here’s where it gets good.
Imagine these huge hulking beautiful men telling you that it’s okay. You don’t have to choose. You can have them both- as long as they can have you in return.
I could faint just thinking about it.
Starting a physical relationship with them?
Finding out that human pussy apparently tastes nothing like Na’vi women- you’re tooth rottingly sweet and potent and addictive to them and you find yourself with your legs spread and a big head forced between your quivering thighs on the regular.
It’s so much. Na’vi have insatiable appetites and stamina that is literally unbelievable.
As time goes on you learn about the two men.
Ao’nung is deceptively sweet. He’s a caring lover. All service top-y and devoted. He wants you to feel good. He wants you to have whatever you want. He spoils you absolutely rotten. Is pussy whipped from the jump. He is his daddy’s son.
Neteyam? Is mean in bed. He’s demanding and passionate. He loves overstimulation(both receiving and giving) sex with him always leaves you a bawling mess.
Both of them have that first born son chip on their shoulders. They’re more alike then they think they are. Every time you point it out they scoff.
More day dreaming-
Somehow you get kidnapped by Quaritch and Co and omg. The lengths your boys go to to get you back is actually terrifying?
And so hot?
Ugh.
This is my new fave imaginary scenario. I think I’ll escape into it for the foreseeable future byeeeeeee
Also @cinetrix I blame you for this. That new Ao’nung pic you posted has fucked me UP.
I do not have the time to write this but I want to so badly😭
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arealphrooblem · 10 months
Text
A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find
Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.
CW: death threats, knives
There was only one thing worse than having a crush on your straight roommate: having a crush on your straight villain roommate. 
Actually worse than that were rent prices, which kept Civilian from running as far in the opposite direction as he could get after he gave his statement to the police. 
A statement that contained a big, gaping hole. 
Because it couldn’t be true, right? It had to be a coincidence. Lots of people had weird, star shaped birthmarks on their ribs. It was a huge leap of logic to assume that the villain who had just tried to rob the bank that morning had the exact same birthmark as Civilian’s roommate for the past two years. 
Or maybe he just imagined it. It had been a very traumatic day. Civilian went home after the police released him and had a massive panic attack in the shower for about forty five minutes and then pressed two weighted blankets on him in bed like a panini grill. 
Having a group of villains stride into your workplace, guns blazing, would do that to you. As would getting stuck in the crossfire between said villains and the Hero from behind a desk, praying a stray bullet or laser beam wouldn’t hit and kill you. 
It was only a coincidence that Civilian had seen the birthmark. Near the end of the fight, one of the villains had been thrown over the very desk Civilian cowered behind, hitting the wall hard enough that even Civilian winced in sympathy. 
He laid there for a moment, dazed, half his torso exposed from a rip in his clothes, that stupid, undeniable birthmark on full display. Civilian could only stare at it, head dizzy as if he also took blunt force trauma to it. The villain groaned and sat up. 
For one agonizingly long second their eyes met. Civilian felt like a kitten spotted by a hawk. This was it. His time was up. He’d be just another statistic on the news -- 
But the villain just put a finger on his lips -- a silent command for silence -- that Civilian could only nod helplessly at. Then the villain slipped away in the chaos and disappeared. 
And besides, it couldn’t be his roommate because his roommate was in Colorado, visiting some online friend of his and going mountain biking or whatever. 
Two days after the attack, Roommate burst through the front door, dumping his duffel bag onto the floor and stepping towards Civilian with a scary single minded determination. 
It took every ounce of control not to flinch when Roommate cupped his face, gaze roving over his features as if looking for injuries. 
Roommate himself looked untouched from the fight. It almost made Civilian second guess himself. But he hadn’t spent the last two days analyzing every detail his love-sick brain had filed away for the last two years to doubt himself now. 
That villain and his roommate were the same person. 
“I saw the news,” Roommate said. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I tried to change my flight but this was the soonest I could get in.”
The lie hurt. Obviously Roommate hadn’t been mountain biking in Colorado for the past few days so it begged the question: what else did he lie about? Was this concern just an elaborate play at innocence? But if his roommate was taking the time to craft this act of concern, then he must not think Civilian knew. 
And if Civilian valued his life, he’d have to keep it that way and force normalcy. 
“I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile and coming up with a grimace. “I mean, I’m not fine. It was fucking scary, but I didn’t get hurt. So there’s that. Work’s given me a week off and then. . .”
Roommate scowled. “And then what? They can’t possibly think you’d be okay working there again after only a few days off? You should quit.”
“Quit?” Civilian’s eyebrows raised. “And we both get thrown out on our asses? We’re lucky enough to have this apartment as it is.”
“I have enough savings to get us through for a few weeks while you find another job,” Roommate insisted. 
“I thought you blew it all on Colorado,” Civilian joked weakly. 
And where the fuck did those savings come from? he wanted to ask. But he didn’t dare. 
“Not all of it. Seriously. You should think about it.”
Something gleamed in the roommate’s eyes, like a warning. Civilian swallowed thickly and nodded. 
“Okay. I’ll think about it. I just . . .I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. It’s good to have you back. You’ll have to tell me all about it when I wake up again.”
Roommate’s face lit up with a smile and Civilian’s heart twisted in his chest. “I have so many good photos. It’s beautiful out there.You should come with me next time.”
“Yeah sure,” said Civilian thoughtlessly, thinking only of the dark safety of his room. 
“Get some rest.” Roommate nudged Civilian towards the hallway. “I’ll order us pizza.”
Civilian nodded and forced his steps to slow as he made his way to the bedroom. Once the door shut and the fan turned on, he buried his head under his pillows and tried to get his breathing under control. 
Faking normalcy was going to be harder than he thought. 
"Oh you're starting dinner already?"
Civilian jumped at the sound of his roommate's voice, the knife slipping and nearly cutting  into his fingertip. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his roommate leaning against the opposite counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. 
Just a casual chat. And yet it felt like a fist suddenly gripped Civilian's heart. Even after three days, it still felt like walking the knife’s edge every time they were in the same room together. 
"I, um, got bored," he said, thankful to be facing away so his terror wouldn't show as he fought it back down. "I didn't know you'd be home so soon."
"I took a half day at lunch. Did some shopping. I got you more of that tea. It seemed to help you sleep."
A hint of guilt colored his roommate's nonchalance. Or maybe Civilian just imagined it. 
"Thanks," Civilian said.
Focus. Focus on the potato. Cube the potato. Be the potato. 
Heart thudding in his ears, his concentration on chopping vegetables, Civilian didn't hear the movement until his roommate's head appeared over his shoulder. 
"What are you making?" he asked. 
Civilian swallowed down a lick of sudden hysteria. 
Get a fucking hold of yourself he thought. There is no reason why he'd be suspicious unless you're acting like a lunatic!
"Soup," he managed to croak. "The, uh, kind at the Italian restaurant you like."
A bribe. A hope. A way to remind himself that he knew his roommate, right? They've lived together for two years. 
And true to form, his roommate's eyes brightened. "Oh excellent! We haven't had that in ages."
"That's because chopping all these vegetables is a pain in the ass."
A thick tension rose and tightened between them. Civilian concentrated on chopping, trying to ignore the heat at his back as his roommate didn't step away, didn't leave. Just watched him. 
"You're using the wrong knife, you know," the roommate said softly. 
" . . .what?"
The roommate reached over Civilian's shoulder to the knife block on the counter and pulled one out. It was small and two fingers wide, short and wickedly sharp. Fear clenched Civilian's throat with icy hands. 
"You're using a butcher knife," his roommate murmured against Civilian's ear. A shiver fluttered down his neck. "That's for cutting meat. You need a paring knife for vegetables."
" . . .Oh." Was it just him or did the kitchen suddenly feel low on air? "I'll . . . remember that . . .for next time. . ."
"Why don't I take over? At least for the chopping."
Civilian tightened his grip on the knife, an instinctive gesture he had no control over. But even though Roommate had offered help in the kitchen many times, that same instinct screamed not to let him. Something felt different this time. 
"I got it," he said, forcing lightness in his tone. "You know you're hopeless in the kitchen."
"I'm good with knives, though." Civilian swallowed down another spike of cold terror. "It's the least I can do if you're making me my favorite."
The paring knife rested just inside Civilian's peripheral, deceptively harmless. 
"Why don't you put the gnocchi on to boil," he said. "I'm almost done here."
His roommate sighed, a rush of air against Civilian’s cheek. "You're always so stubborn," he said with sad fondness. 
The paring knife moved like a flash and suddenly it's cold steel pressed light as a kiss just under Civilian's jaw. 
His breath froze in his lungs. 
"Drop the knife, Civilian."
" . . .Roommate?" It wasn't difficult to pitch his voice high in uncertain fear. To pretend shock. "What are you doing?"
"I know that you know."
"Know what?" Civilian breathed and then cringed at how unbelievable it sounded even to his own ears. 
He only had room in his head for one secret,  it was hard to sound convincingly ignorant when every cell screamed at him to run away. 
"You've tried so valiantly to hide it, but I know you too well." Roommate's murmured against his ear.  "You're afraid."
Civilian dragged a shaky breath into his lungs. "You have a knife to my throat."
"And you are nowhere near as shocked about that as you should be." Roommate twisted the knife until the flat of the blade lay against Civilian's skin -- and then he dragged it, achingly slow, over Civilian's jawline to rest against raw bitten lips. 
A wave of dizziness gripped him, driven by fear mixed with the heady, dangerous edge of want, the desire Civilian struggled with for so many months wrapping its claws around his chest. 
"Be a good boy and drop the knife."
Breath came fast and heavy as he willed himself to relax his fingers, to release the knife. Not that he would have even thought of it as a weapon and not a kitchen tool until his roommate demonstrated it. But with one having danced so close to his pulse, letting go of his own felt like a death sentence. 
The second he dropped the knife, his roommate twisted a hand into the fabric of his shirt and hauled him across the kitchen to pin him against the fridge. The smiling tomato magnet they grabbed as a joke at a yard sale clattered to the floor and broke into pieces. The roommate  doesn't so much as flinch, their gaze like stone, the knife never wavering from Civilian's neck.
He swallows thickly against the panic, never more afraid in his life than in this moment. He never thought death would look like his favorite person in the world ready to slit his throat with a paring knife. 
And yet the desire still thrummed beneath it all, a twisted hunger being fed from such close contact, like his body forgot to stop yearning in light of what his mind knew. But the stone-cold glint in his roommate’s eyes twisted his face from comfortingly familiar into dangerously unrecognizable. 
Seeing it shattered something in Civilian just like that stupid magnet. His eyes prickled and stung; the roommate's face turned blurry. Humiliated, he darted his gaze to the window, focusing on the speck of green of the neighbor’s tree swaying in the breeze. 
And waited for death. 
Time stretched long and excruciating between each heartbeat. Then the coolness of the knife disappeared, replaced by warm fingers that nudged his gaze back to his roommate’s.
“Hey,” the roommate said softly. 
That granite hardness of his gaze had melted into soft concern. The exact kind of look he gave Civilian each time a migraine flared up. The reminder of that felt as dangerous as the knife. It couldn’t be real. 
“Hey, it’s okay.”
The words hit him like a slap to the face. 
“Don’t say that!” Civilian hissed. “I didn’t do anything and you’re going to kill me.”
He flinched from the hand that raised up, knocking his head painfully against the fridge. But Roommate only brushed a stray tear away with his calloused thumb. 
“You’re right,” he said pensively. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m not going to kill you.”
He turned and tossed the knife into the sink. Civilian did not feel any safer, however. He felt like a bug under the shadow of a boot,  even as Roommate smoothed his hands over Civilian’s chest in a display of casual affection he would have died for a week earlier. 
“Here is what I am going to do,” he continued. “I’m going to finish dinner. You’re going to compose yourself in a long hot shower and when you get out we are going to eat and have a discussion about the way things are going to be from now on. Is that alright?”
Civilian nodded, not trusting his voice. What other answer could he possibly give?
Part two here
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avatar-anna · 1 year
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so just an idea. what if few years down the line when prof and h get married and he drops her to uni first time after they are married and people address her "professor styles" or "doctor styles" and she cant stop blushing and harry is just smirkingg. you can totally ignore this if this isn't something you like!
Heyyy queeeeeen, first of all HAPPY NEW YEAR! Second off all this is kinda a request/idea : how about y/n is mad at bf!Harry so she gives him the silent treatment and then out off nowhere he calls her y/n Styles and it gets her attention and then they have a talk about marriage and the end up making love?
I've given this a lot of thought, because on the one hand, I feel like Professor would be the type to keep her last name. BUT I also think she would appreciate the idea of shedding her past for good by taking a new name, Harry's name. She talks about it at length with Harry, and he holds his tongue, wanting her to come to her own decision and supporting whatever she wants to do (but he totally has an opinion and it's for her to be Mrs. Dr. Styles). And because you so graciously requested this, we're going with Mrs. Dr. Styles, so here is three times Professor was referred to as Dr. Styles!
The Professor Series
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Harry often thought the way Y/n went on tangents was cute, adorable even, but right now she was being a little...unreasonable.
"Y/n, we talked about this. It happened for a moment, and security took care of it. I'm fine."
"This is not okay! Do you know how many creeps there are out there? So many. I don't need statistics because I encounter them all the time, Harry. This is serious. You could've been hurt, the band could've been hurt, anyone could've—"
"Darling, nothing happened. Come back down to earth for me. Please?" he said, standing up from the hotel bed to come near her.
"I am on earth! Where some...some freak decided it was okay to run onstage and charge you! Why aren't you taking this seriously, Harry? Anything could've happened? So many celebrities are attacked by fans who think they're in a relationship or have a right to..."
And on and on she went.
Harry knew it was scary for her. Y/n got easily spooked by this kind of thing. And he was fine with that, but honestly, hearing about all of this was freaking him out. He'd been fine after the show, but now she was making him uncomfortable.
"Y/n, love, come on. Stop," he said gently, reaching for her hand. But she wouldn't stop, she just kept going.
Harry loved her, he would never want to change a single thing about her. He loved her little quirks and all the things that made up who she was. She wouldn't be his love without them. But sometimes she didn't listen to him, and sometimes she worked herself into a frenzy when she didn't need to.
"Y/n Styles! Stop. I love you, but you need to stop," he said, voice soft but stern.
He didn't even realize what he said until she asked, "What did you just call me?"
"What?"
"Y—You called me Y/n...Styles," she said, and Harry thought she'd probably never looked so confused in her life. "Why would you do that?"
"I...I don't know," he said truthfully. "It just came out. Sorry."
He wasn't sorry, though. Not really. Harry might not have meant to, but he certainly liked the sound of it. They hadn't been together very long, but he knew what he wanted, he knew what his future was going to look like. Harry didn't care how long it took or when that future started, but he could wait.
What he didn't want was to freak his girlfriend out. Harry knew Y/n loved him, but she sometimes got squirrely about the abstract, the unknown.
"No, it's—it's okay, I—I kind of liked it," she said.
Of all the things to happen tonight, that was the most surprising.
Grinning, Harry said, "You did, did you?"
"I know that look. Don't give me that look or I'll take it back," she said, stepping away from him as he got closer.
"What look?"
"That look! Put those bedroom eyes away!"
"Bedroom eyes?" Harry asked, laughing as he cornered Y/n against a wall. In a sing-song voice, he said, "You want to be my wiiife."
"N—No, that's not what I said, I just—Hey!"
"No more talking," he said, carrying her over his shoulder. "We, Y/n Styles, are going to bed."
Y/n tried to say something, but Harry's mouth was on hers before she could make a sound. "I said no more talking," he murmured, nudging his nose against hers. "We're going to bed, and we're going to kiss for a little bit."
"Maybe a little more?"
Chuckling, Harry kissed the top of her cheekbone. "Whatever Mrs. Styles wants, she gets."
"Stop it with that. We're—mm."
"Shh. No more talking."
"It's—It's Doctor Styles," Y/n corrected, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck.
"Of course. Now, where were we?"
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"Have a wonderful, wonderful day, Dr. Styles."
"It's review day. My least favorite day," Y/n huffed, slumping against the seat of the car.
"Impossible," Harry said, leaning across the middle console to kiss her temple. "Today is your first day of work as Dr. Styles, which means it is the best day."
Y/n's cheeks flushed at the sound of her name. Her new name. She loved it, of course, she wouldn't have changed her name if she didn't. But it was just so new. They'd only been...married...a few weeks. Seeing the ring on her left hand still surprised her from time to time.
"Are you going to say Dr. Styles every time you address me?" she asked him.
Harry's grin was broad as he winked and said, "Absolutely, Dr. Styles."
"Harry—"
He took her chin in his hand and kissed her long and hard. When he pulled back, her entire face was red. "Harry! Anyone could see—"
"Let them. I love my wife, and everyone should know it," he said. "I'll be by for lunch, okay?"
"Really?"
Harry kissed her forehead. "Yep. Gonna bring you flowers and embarrass you in front of all your students and make them jealous at the same time. So go, I'm looking forward to being a trophy husband."
He was being silly, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. They were married. Harry would shout it from the rooftops if he could, but he would settle for making Y/n blush every chance he got.
Grinning from ear to ear, Y/n surged forward and kissed him. "Do you have to bring the flowers?"
Chuckling, Harry pecked the bridge of her nose. "I have to bring the flowers, Dr. Styles."
Y/n, Dr. Styles, wrinkled her nose at Harry, her husband, who just wrinkled his at her and kissed her pouted lips. "You better go, Dr. Styles. You're gonna be late for class."
She nearly told Harry to drive them back home, that she didn't want to go back and teach, she just wanted to stay in all day with him. But that was impractical. She had to go.
So Y/n got out of the car and went, but not before one more kiss to Harry's lips.
All day, when students called her Dr. Styles, Y/n blushed. She got through her lectures without a hitch, but she couldn't avoid the teasing questions at the end, or the cheers and whistles when Harry came by as promised, a takeout bag in one hand and a large bouquet of her favorite flowers in the other. He ate up all the attention, then sat Y/n on his lap while they ate lunch together. And when her next class was about to start, he didn't leave like she expected. He stayed in her desk chair and minded his own business while she gave her lecture, though she could feel his gaze on her every now and again, each one more heated than the last.
Y/n could feel each one and tried not to rush through one of her lectures so they could get home. That wasn't who she was, she was a good professor who didn't let her husband's—her husband's—bedroom eyes get in the way of a lecture. She was better than that, she would be better than—
"I think that covers everything. I think you would all benefit from some free study time, so...so get studying!"
Students trickled out one by one, some of them going up to Y/n to ask her a question or congratulate her or both. She answered and accepted each graciously, but her fingers were also tapping furiously against her leg, just below the hem of her skirt. And finally, when the last student was finally gone, Y/n turned around and launched herself at Harry.
"Take me home," she mumbled against his mouth. "Take me home right now, please."
"Darling, you have one more class—"
"Now," she insisted, before going back to kissing him all over. His neck, his jaw, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth.
Harry hummed as he threaded his hand through her hair. He gripped her waist and indulged her in one more kiss before he tilted his head back. "I love you, my darling, darling wife, but no."
"No?"
"No. I know you want to now, but you'd be disappointed for letting your students down later," he said.
Y/n wanted to protest, but she knew Harry was right, so she slumped against his chest. "But I want you right now."
"Believe me, you are not alone in that department," he said, squeezing her hip. "But, we have our whole lives together, hm? So I will wait, and so will you, and when we get home..."
"Promise?"
Harry kissed his wife, loving the feel of her body pressed against his. "Promise."
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"Okay, we're live in three, two, one!"
The host of The Daily Show smiled at the appropriate camera and did his normal greetings after the commercial break, then announced that Y/n was here.
"Welcome Dr. Y/l/n"
Y/n was nervous beyond all reason, but somehow she managed a small smile. "Thank you. I—It's Dr. Styles."
She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to the cameras and the attention and the live studio audience. Well, she was, but her lectures were different. That was her safe space. This...a live television interview was not her safe space.
"Right! Of course, congratulations!" the host said. "How is married life treating you and your husband? What's his name again?"
"HARRY!" someone in the audience shouted, which caused everyone to laugh and cheer.
Y/n blushed. How long had they been married, and she still blushed at the mention of her and Harry being married? "Good. Good, I guess. We're very happy."
"I'm glad! And I'm so curious to know how the two of you met. A Cambridge professor with multiple PhDs and a world famous pop star. How does that happen?"
The host's voice wasn't condescending, merely curious, but Y/n wasn't prepared to talk about this. She didn't come to talk about her relationship.
Her mind buzzed with an answer that wouldn't be rude but would also change the subject. "We...met during the pandemic, which was when I realized how lacking schools were in...in so much. Which sounds silly, but I skipped most elementary grades and spent most of my time in higher education. But I...I realized I could help."
"Right! You became quite the internet sensation during lockdown to make educational videos, which obviously led to this. Your very own curriculum."
Grinning, Y/n nodded.
She never set out to write a series of textbooks for children. Y/n had a busy life, a fulfilling life as a professor. And yet somehow, she found herself wanting to do more. Harry had a lot of...younger family, and she liked to help them with their homework and projects and such. But her first look at their textbooks was very disappointing.
"This is what they're teaching you? This isn't even historically accurate! Where's..."
It was safe to say once something was on Y/n's mind, she couldn't let it go. Harry was amused but supportive, his usual reaction when she took on a new project.
"How can I help, love?"
"You didn't even finish school. How are you going to help me write a textbook?"
"Ouch, love."
"Well?"
"I mean you're right, but you could always say, 'Thank you husband. I love you so much.' Now you try."
"Thank you husband! I love you so much!"
"See? Not so hard."
"I started by just writing one. A comprehensive American History textbook," she said now, tapping her fingers under the desk where no one could see. " Kids have the capacity to learn so much more than what schools are currently teaching them. Leaving things out or not acknowledging certain events or painting our nation's history in a certain light is a disservice to them."
Y/n wasn't expecting applause, didn't necessarily want it. So she was surprised when the audience cheered for her answer. She smiled despite herself, then glanced to the side where Harry was standing off camera. He gave Y/n a thumbs up and blew her a kiss.
"That's amazing," the host said. "So you started with one, and it just progressed from there?"
"Yes, I—Once my mind is set on a project, I can't let it go, so I carved out time and just...wrote a bunch of textbooks, I guess. Well, I researched and got a Master's in Urban Education first. But then...then I wrote a bunch of textbooks."
"You wrote an entire elementary and middle school curriculum by yourself! That's incredible, Dr. Styles."
The audience cheered again, and when it died down, the host asked her more questions about her books, which she was happy to answer. She talked about her approach and her willingness to not shy away from or hide unsavory history. "In a way that's appropriate for each age group, obviously," she said. "But it's important for children to understand the complexity of history and that there's never just one side to a story. I tried really hard to be respectful and honor forgotten voices that have been left out for too long."
"Would you ever teach to younger pupils, yourself?" the host asked.
"Oh heavens no," Y/n said quickly. "My students at university can barely keep up with me. No, I—I wanted to do my part by providing well-rounded, unbiased material, but I'm not sure kids would want me to teach it."
And when it was all said and done, when the cameras were off, the host shook her hand and thanked her for coming to the show.
Y/n walked off the set and toward Harry, who was quick to spin her around in his arms. "You were fantastic," Harry said.
"I know! I was nervous at first, but I just am so proud of my work, you know? So it was easy to talk about. And I even managed a few jokes!"
Harry laughed because her "jokes" flew over everyone's heads. The only reason Harry got them was because Y/n practiced them on him the night before. "They were great."
She smiled, but it dimmed the longer she looked at him. "You didn't think they're funny."
"What? I didn't say that! Why would you—"
"You didn't have to. It's all over your face," she said, pouting. "You don't think I'm funny?"
"I think you're brilliant, and I think you have so many talents. Can you let the rest of us idiots be funny?"
"I suppose that's fine," she huffed. "Can we go home now?"
Kissing her temple, Harry took her hand and led her out of the studio. "We can go wherever you want, Dr. Styles."
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Can we please get a scenario to how the main three proxies (Masky/Tim, Hoodie/Brian, and Toby) act if they have an anxiety or panic attack? I just want to see your thought on them, because I’ve noticed many people act entirely different, and I find it interesting.
I didn't include Masky/Hoodie specifically because I really don't think either of them have panic attacks, but the other three are here. Sometimes I include the two of them in these sorts of things but they don't fit here for me.
Also, I included if they do or don't have a s/o in this as well. One of the boys ended up being a lot like me in terms of symptoms and only I know which one.
Tim:
Tim doesn't often get panic attacks, I think honestly in the mansion he gets them the least amount of anyone. I think Tim can mostly fly under the radar with his panic attacks unless it's a really bad one. He'll get sweaty, shaky hands, tremble a bit, but he can usually get control over himself and he'll just excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment so he can catch his breath and shake off whatever's got him so panicked. However, if it's a much larger panic attack, things are different for Tim. Usually, these panic attacks occur because of stress from their job, or because of Tim having to deal with Masky being inside of him. Tim gets hit pretty hard; sense of doom, chest pain, dizziness, nausea, detachment, shortness of breath, and shaking. 
Tim gets incredibly scared during these times, as though he's fully shutting down, and he tends to try to run away and hide from people, sometimes collapsing where he is on the way to do so. If he has you, you're the person he immediately tries to find in times like this, all but crumbling into your arms, into his safety net. He calms down much easier in your presence, clinging onto you in ways only you've seen, apologizing and crying, weeping because he feels so guilty in his anxiety for letting his fears get to him, and only your calming words and gentle touch are able to relax him. If he doesn't have you, he tries with all his might to get to his bedroom, to be alone. He'll stay in there, isolated from everyone else as he spends what could be minutes or hours trying to calm himself down, as not even Brian is allowed to see him like this. 
Brian:
Brian I think is second after Tim in terms of least likely to have a panic attack, as I think Brian tends to be good at managing his stress and anxiety, but I think his anxiety actually gets to him more often than it does Tim. I think Brian's panic attacks tend to escalate to the same level each time because when he realizes he's going to have one it causes his fear and anxiety to greatly spiral. It starts with hot flashes for Brian, sweatiness, and headaches. After that, he starts to realize what's happening, and he starts to get shaky and his voice starts to tremble, and he'll try and excuse himself from whatever he's doing. If he has you, he'll have you try and help him upstairs so he doesn't have to be alone because he hates being alone during a panic attack. 
He'll curl into you, hugging you and trying to do breathing exercises with you to calm down before the brunt of it hits him. He'll start to get nauseous, choking on his breath and swaying back and forth in dizziness, so he often likes to lay down beside you. He often breaks down in tears, clinging to you because he feels terrified that something is really wrong with him, and he gets an impending feeling that he's going to die, that he's going to disappear. His panic attacks are very scary for him. If he doesn't have you, he'll go through a similar process with Tim or Slender, one of them being the one to keep him company, although Brian will instead be laying down under a blanket, curled up and hugging a pillow as he tries to calm himself while they comforting rub his back and assure him he'll be okay, that he can get through this, but it usually takes him about an hour to get through one.
Toby:
Toby, on the other hand, has panic attacks on a very regular basis because of his trauma and the very high level of stress and anxiety that I think he feels on a very regular basis. I'd say Toby has a panic attack at least once or twice a week, but some weeks he could be having them every other day when he's going through a very rough patch, although Toby's panic attacks can tend to vary on how they show up for him. Sometimes he feels physically sick, he'll have nausea, and dizziness, and have an extremely rapidly pounding heart rate, with sweat coating his body, breaking down in tears, and unable to stop crying. Sometimes he has an extreme sense of fear, with the impending doom that he's going to lose control of his life, that his dad will come back and take him away, that he's going to die, that he's going to lose control of his life, and he'll start shaking incredibly bad, almost unable to walk, unable to breathe properly and dizziness overtaking him as he finds himself nearly paralyzed and unable to move. 
Sometimes he finds himself growing silent, unable to communicate, his vision blurry, his mind in a sense of detachment so strong he can't even tell he's conscious anymore, his body swaying back and forth, his breathing slowed and shallow, a numb sense of fear humming inside of him. If he has you by his side during any of these, he tends to cling to you, silently asking you not to leave him alone. He won't be talkative at all, in fact, other than his iron grip on you he might seem as though he's avoidant and doesn't want you there, but he's just lost in the confusion of it and unable to communicate what he wants. He just knows that he trusts you, and he wants you to remain by his side so he can have a glimpse of feeling safe. If he doesn't have you, he tends to isolate himself and go through them alone, although sometimes he might prefer to have Slender by his side, comforting him and just being around him so he can know he's not alone or in danger anymore.
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erithel · 9 months
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So In an alternate reality somewhere, if the writers of VLD decided, for whatever reason, make the klance ship canon, how would they write it? Or how would you have liked them to write it?
Oddly enough I actually have one very specific idea that has been in my brain since before season 8 aired. And I do actually feel like it would have fit in with the show, like canonically.
So, okay:
Shows like AtLA and Korra had a silly recap episode in their last season. And I had the thought "what if VLD did the same thing?"
The basic premise of the recap episode is Lance telling his family about everything that happened to them while with Voltron.
At first he starts out in his usual Lance manner - bragging a bit, putting on a show - but then as he keeps going, he starts to talk more seriously. He tells them about all the intense and scary stuff they went through, and he really starts to speak from the heart.
Afterwards we get to see his family's reaction - and they are all just... sitting there, staring at him.
And Lance is like "What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"
And Rachel (maybe) smirks at him. "Wow. You really must like that Keith guy, huh?"
And Lance is even more confused, until Veronica goes over to him and is like "Lance...you realize that 90% of what you told us was about Keith, right?"
Basically, as Lance is telling his family about their adventures, it turns into him recapping everything with this intense focus on what Keith was doing (and how it made Lance feel) - "Keith got my lion back" and "Keith says we had a bonding moment but -" and "And then he just left us, can you believe it?" and "Keith was in the Altean ship and he looked so different - bigger and cooler and handsome."
The episode would end with him having a realization of how much Keith actually meant to him - and the following episodes of the final season, we would get to see Lance fully coming to embrace the idea that he had always had these feelings for Keith. And all he needed was a bit of outside perspective to nudge him in the direction of what he truly wanted and needed.
And the thing is, it actually would have been really easy, because all they would have needed to do was continue what they started. There were so many moments in the early seasons that were alluding to something more between Keith and Lance.
And to start the show with Lance being a cocky womanizer and ending it with him actually realizing he was bisexual and he had found a much deeper connection with his former rival - chef's kiss.
Making klance canon would have been easy to write, and it would have explained why so many things focused on the two of them in ways that definitely did not feel just platonic. Why Lance was so depressed while Keith was gone. Why he was always so worried and, like, protective over Keith when he went off to do something alone and reckless. Why he went so far out of his way to watch the sunset with Keith. Why did they really pick each other in the game show? Why did Keith really leave the team after his "one paladin too many" conversation with Lance? Why a thousand more things that are slipping my brain right now.
I believe there were certain restrictions from the studios on what they were willing/able to show, but it's not like they had to explicitly show klance making out or something to prove they were together. If they had actually been able to canonically have klance be endgame, I think they would have ended it similar to Korra. Where Keith and Lance would just have a moment where they take each others hands and smile at one another - or something equally as subtle.
On a more personal "my particular vibe" note, I would have liked them to write it to include things like:
Keith going full on rage Galra, and Lance having to sword fight him back to himself
The two of them having a much needed emotional conversation - with yelling and crying - where they learned how close they both came to actually permanently dying.
Lance and Allura having an emotional conversation about how they wanted to be friends with each other - because that's equally as important as having a love interest.
Keith and Lance fighting back to back on the ground in a final, epic showdown.
Basically just overall more emotions and character interactions tbh
The thing that I think bugged so many fans - and why this ship/this show is still a sore spot for many people - is because they were building something that had to do with klance in the beginning, and they just didn't follow through.
But if they had just continued in the direction they were headed, I fully believe klance would have been canon because it would have been so easy to make happen.
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scribblestatic · 1 month
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I hope y'all had a good 4/20. Anyway, here's more Sheepzun.
---
Finding his way out of the caves was much easier than going in. The flow of qi seemed easier for him to discern, and his senses were stronger. How curious! He was sure he'd be able to sense predators much easier now.
He cloaked himself in his qi and snuck out the caves, ensuring no one was looking at or for him. This time around, it seemed he had enough qi to do so easier than before, not feeling any pull or strain on his meridians.
He was a right chuffed lad, all things considered!
Shen Yuan made his way back to Qing Jing Peak without much of an issue. Disciples didn't seem to sense his hiding. Those with stronger cultivation did seem to look around, a tad unsettled if anything, but overall, none of them saw through his illusion.
It also helped that he was a prey animal who preferred to not leave things up to risk or chance when being careful was a perfectly reasonable option.
As he travelled, he noticed that the season seemed a little different. A tad on the warmer side than he last remembered. He had entered a few days after spring began, and the flowers he remembered were supposed to bloom seemed to already be at the end of its blooming cycle...
Was it the end of spring? Goodness, time flew!!
Thankfully, not an excessive amount of time passed since, upon making his way out of the forest near the woodshed, Luo Binghe didn't look too much taller. Yes, at the very least, only a few days or weeks had passed.
Hearing Shen Yuan's purposeful rustling, Luo Binghe's slightly pointy ears almost seemed to twitch. Then, he turned around quickly, eyes wide and swiftly becoming watery with unshed tears.
"Shizun!!"
Shen Yuan huffed, amused as the boy, sticky as ever, ran up to him and immediately hugged him around the neck.
"Shizun! Shizun, you came back! Shizun!!"
'Who do you keep calling out for, ah? I'm right here,' Shen Yuan thought.
Luo Binghe went still.
"...Shizun?"
'Yes?'
The boy suddenly let go of him and leaned back, staring right into his eyes. Then, slowly, like the flowers he missed bloom at the start of spring, Luo Binghe's smile spread across his face in a vibrant flourish.
"Shizun!! Shizun, you can talk now?!"
Shen Yuan paused, blinking.
'...You can hear what this one is...saying.'
"Yes, I can! I can finally understand you, Shizun! Has my cultivation gotten better? Is... Is this because of what you taught me?"
I don't know, what the heck?! This is scary!!
So, if he was actually thinking as though he was speaking to Luo Binghe, then the boy would actually hear it? After all, he wasn't responding to his thoughts now. Was this because he taught a spirit creature's Dao to a human that he became Dr. Dolittle? That's an entire genre change!
...Whatever that was supposed to mean! Who even was Dr. Dolittle?!
'...Indeed, it seems likely. However, this one admits that this is the first time he's taught this Dao to a human,' Shen Yuan replies, his mind in utter disarray and panic. 'As much as you are a student, this ram is still learning himself.'
There's no precedent for this! I'm sorry, Binghe! This ram is only about a year old!
Luo Binghe looked as though the meaning of the Dao was explained to him in elementary terms, as though he made a huge mental breakthrough with his words alone.
"I see... Thanking Shizun for his knowledge and education all this time!"
He bowed so respectfully, Shen Yuan immediately felt like a terrible saber-toothed wolf dressed up like a newly born spirit lamb to prey on the little human's trust.
But, well, he was at least somewhat honest just now. He really was also a student in all of this.
'This ram thanks you as well. Even through our language barrier, you've been an exemplary student. Now that we can understand each other more freely, we can further improve your cultivation.'
"Yes, Shizun! I'm looking forward to it!"
Shit.
[More under the cut, this one just got kinda long]
----
Okay, so, it wasn't all that bad.
One, it really was much easier to speak with Bing-lamb, and the boy seemed to flourish further under his his verbal guidance. He didn't really have to say much, though. Whatever Luo Binghe lacked in prowess, he was steadily making up for it in motivation.
All Shen Yuan had to do was correct him a little here and there based on whatever kind of strange animal instinct he had that said,
'This stance is a little off. Keep you knees elastic. Firm, but ready.'
or
'You must connect with your surroundings and hone to your senses. Humans, as predators, rely strongly on their eyes. But you must learn to use your nose, ears, and touch as well.'
"What about taste, Shizun?"
'There are some things a mouth shouldn't touch. We can build up to that as you learn more.'
Though, perhaps he asked such questions because Shen Yuan occasionally found himself chewing on Luo Binghe's clothes. It was more affectionate grooming for the boy than anything, honestly. But he was also a prey creature rather than a human, so it could be excused as such.
Two, after Luo Binghe's lessons with the human instructors, Luo Binghe would sometimes ask him for questions and clarification as he did the pile of chores constantly assigned to him. What was with all these duties, anyway? Weren't all of the disciples supposed to do these things? They were working too hard on purpose, but why?
Anyway, despite not being a human, it turned out Shen Yuan could read quite well. He wasn't sure where he'd learned such a skill, but it was nice to see it be useful. So, because Luo Binghe's questions never got answered in class, as the boy's Shizun, he took it upon himself to do his best to help.
It meant he sometimes had to get a bit creative with how he explained things, but he was doing well enough, it seemed.
Of course, there were limits to what he could do.
As a ram, teaching the four arts was mostly out of the question. Give him some paints and he could maybe bang something out on a canvas, but he had no guarantee it would look like anything useful or recognizable. Same for a guqin or calligraphy.
Go...well, if the pieces and board were big enough, maybe. But anyway, he had his limitations. Not that Luo Binghe seemed to see any of them. With the way Shen Yuan loafed and Luo Binghe sat in front of him, his workbook open, one would think he'd hung the moon.
It was...admittedly very nice to be so appreciated.
Also, getting petted. He'd stopped for a bit after they first spoke, but Luo Binghe did it by accident again later. When Shen Yuan stayed quiet without scolding the action and slightly shifting his head closer, well, he got the picture.
And snacks. Luo Binghe didn't have access to a full kitchen for reasons he didn't understand, but Shen Yuan just knew. The day he had kitchen privileges, it was over for Qing Jing Peak. They'd become Qing Jing Restaurant or something.
Although he still had to be careful, he found he was actually starting to enjoy living the way he was now. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder as often, Prey and predator, bridging the gap, huh? What a lovely story.
As Luo Binghe improved, keeping his sheep shizun a secret, several more months passed. Spring turned into summer, into fall, into winter, into spring, into the touches of summer heat once more.
Over that year, Luo Binghe grew taller and broader. His shoulders were starting to fill out, his hands and feet better sized for his body. From his experience working with his shizun's hair-like wool, he learned how to take care of his own hair better, the curls becoming shinier and tamable, no longer as difficult to pull into a ponytail. He also learned all the little nooks and crannies of Qing Jing Peak after going foraging with his shizun, and the mountain climbing and hunting he'd done for himself.
He'd thought his shizun would be against him hunting the birds and other creatures on and around the peak, but though he never partook himself, he was ambivalent.
'You are human. Even sheep eat meat when necessary. For you, it's even more so. This ram shan't fault his student for doing the best for himself.'
And so, with his own hunting skills built up, despite still living and sleeping in the wood shed and lacking some of the more artistic prowess of his sect siblings, he's grown considerably in strength, speed, and build. As he sometimes heard his shizun murmur, 'Born to Bai Zhan, raised to Qing Jing, manages both.'
Meanwhile, Shizun himself...
Luo Binghe had visited Xin Ya Peak before, alongside some of his sect siblings. He'd seen what spirit sheep normally looked like--fluffy, with slightly curved horns, and a nice sheen to their wool. Not particularly tall--mostly reaching around their knees or thighs.
Shizun, however, drew much more regal of a figure. His wool was less fluffy but somehow even softer. He was taller, too, reaching up to the bottom of Luo Binghe's chest. His horns had grown out considerably, to the point they were curling outward. Unlike his farmed comrades, Shizun was exceptionally fastidious. Though, it likely helped he was not locked into a barn or kept around mud. So, he was not only impeccably clean, but he kept a long, undocked tail that swayed behind him with his steps.
He kept his wool a beautiful shade of ivory white. The only discolorations were the slightly green tones that occasionally hung onto his stomach and legs from loafing on the grasses around the bamboo forest and the ever-present blood red huadian on his forehead. Moreover, after Shizun had returned from wherever he'd gone, his eyes had changed. Irises that were once a striking brown had become a soothing blue-green color, much like the peak colors of Qing Jing.
Perhaps spirit animals needed less effort to attain godhood. Luo Binghe could believe it. After all, his shizun appeared like a god nowadays.
'Binghe' he'd hear, his soft and elegant voice calling out to him in the dewy mornings.
He would look up to see his shizun returning from some place he'd found his wild breakfast, leaving him to sleep longer because, as the ram said, he was a growing boy and needed it more.
The sun would peek out at just the right time to shine on his arrival, making him look ethereal, even if he was holding moss in his mouth.
'Have you eaten yet? If not, add this to your food today. It has absorbed quite a bit of yin qi. Considering your yang constitution, it will help promote more internal balance.'
Shizun places the stringy, thick moss in Luo Binghe's waiting hands.
'This is called Qiyan Root, despite not being a root at all. Strain and boil it twice for the best effect. You can also dry some of it for medicinal use. It should taste quite nice in an herbal tea.'
His shizun hummed in consideration as he tilted his head, long white lashes against the fur of his cheeks.
Luo Binghe couldn't help but wonder what his shizun would look like as a human. He was quite the handsome animal, much like one would compliment a horse for its strong physique and beautiful sheen. Surely he'd be a handsome human as well.
Though, wondering such a thing would have to wait. It was time for morning chores, then his lessons could begin in earnest.
It was after one such set of lessons with his other teachers, when he was chopping wood with his shizun at his side that the ram suddenly raised his head with a frown.
"Shizun?"
'...The air feels different. What do you sense?'
Having learned his cultivation mostly from a spirit animal rather than a human, Luo Binghe honed his senses and listened. Indeed, the peak seemed quiet. Too quiet, however.
"Something's not right... Shizun, I'll be back."
'Be careful, Binghe.'
The boy nodded in return before he ran off, Shen Yuan staying behind as he tried to better understand what this energy fluctuation actually was.
Eventually, curiosity and concern won out over wariness, and he concealed himself as he headed toward the rainbow bridges separating Qing Jing from the other peaks.
There, he found several demons cracking away at the bridge between Qing Jing and Qiong Ding. Several were smaller demons with tiny horns and large machetes in their spindly hands. They were accompanied by a larger, more boubous demon in a loincloth, using an axe to slice and wear away at the energies keeping the rainbow bridge connected.
A siege? But this is Cang Qiong, one of the most powerful sects! How could these demons have the gall?!
Shen Yuan wasn't aware of the politics that came with running a peak, so, of course, he was unaware of the peak lord's absence. Several lords were away--more than honestly permissible--leaving the little lamb-like disciples without their guard dogs. Though, judging from the coordinated actions of the demons, the little troupe he was looking at was the least of his worries.
Binghe!!
If he was running this way, then surely he would've encountered the demons! But he could smell no blood or anything from his student. Perhaps he already passed through before they arrived. After all, behind the troupe, he could see several groups of demons destroying the bridges and leaving the peaks isolated...
No, not all the peaks. Qiong Ding.
Something about this scenario struck him as...oddly familiar.
But he shoved that thought aside. Now wasn't the time for excessive questioning! His student was in danger!
As much as he liked to believe he prepared Luo Binghe for combat in some meaningful way, he would never overestimate his teaching abilities. He's a ram for fucks sake, how could he be much better than human teachers and their opposable thumbs?!
Not letting up his concealing qi, he began running across the bridge, heading straight for the small crowd of demons.
Though they couldn't see him, his weight and trotting seemed to alert them as they turned his way. Cruel smirks spread on the imps' faces as they raised their weapons and prepared to strike.
Deciding not to conceal himself anymore, he instead focused his qi on his attack, suddenly appearing before them. For some reason, they seemed surprised despite already preparing to attack him.
His qi-filled horns collided with one of their machetes, causing it to crack and shatter. Milliseconds later, the same cracking and shattering came from the imp's ribs.
Gritting his teeth, he flung his head to the right, throwing several of the imps off the cracking bridge. But he still had some momentum and wasn't done yet.
Facing the bulbous demon and its large axe, he charged up as much as he could, enough that his horns began to glow dimly.
The demon bellowed as it swung the axe, intending to split his skull. But Shen Yuan was faster.
Putting more force in his back legs, he jumped forward, tucking his front legs close to his body. His curved horns rammed against the demon's chest, the bones giving way under it. It let out a choke, then it spit up blood as the wind moved around them.
When the demon fell back, Shen Yuan blinked, realizing he was going butt up.
With a surprised bleat, his legs stretched out as the momentum had him flopping on his back above the demon's head. At least it was on solid ground! Dirt, even!
He wiggled, then quickly got himself up, shaking the dust off his head. Reorienting himself, he realized he was on Qiong Ding Peak. Huh... He didn't think the demon was so close to the land there, but maybe he miscalculated.
Anyway, Binghe!
Worried about his student, he quickly ran off to find where he was, concealing himself behind a cloak of qi once more.
Of course, Shen Yuan missed several things.
For one, the imps and demons had not noticed him at all. What they had noticed were several Qing Jing disciples arriving with their swords drawn.
Secondly, the machetes and axes the demons held were not supposed to crack so easily to a ram's horns. They were made with reinforced metals to be sturdy. A regular spirit sheep would've long lost its horns and skull to them.
Thirdly, the largest demon on the bridge had indeed been standing further away from Qiong Ding Peak, and Shen Yuan hadn't miscalculated. He just didn't realize that his body, weighing over 160 kg (352.7 lbs) plus the force of his qi-powered forward thrust was, even by physics standards, enough to blow a large demon backwards by several meters and shatter their collarbone on impact.
He'd turned his body into a literal battering ram.
Lastly, the Qing Jing disciples, whom the demons actually saw and prepared to fight, were able to witness the entire event, and were now staring, wide-eyed, at the large, mystical, disappearing sheep.
...But those were concerns for the future Shen Yuan.
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22 Months Messing Challenge Update
Okay, so today I learned that 1 cup of coffee helps move things along and helps make me do my thang in my diaper. However, adding a glass of cranberry juice throws my tummy into overdrive and totally clears me out in a way that I don’t like. You ever feel like you totally clear yourself out then your body is like, “Go back to the potty right now cuz you’re gonna poo right now!” twenty minutes later?
Guess how many diapers I went through because of that? Four. Four diapers because each time I thought I was good. I waited in my third diaper after messing to make sure that I was as empty as I could be, then changed. I’ll give you one guess as to what happened next.
Since I have sensitive skin, I used gobs of Desitin rash cream down there so I could practice staying messy for longer and longer periods of time. I want to be able to tolerate being messy for a bit longer than I’m comfortable with because there may be situations in the future that keep me from changing as soon as possible.
I’ve started making notes of places that have bathrooms that are “safe” for me to change in, saving a long list of places on my phone with Google Maps for my local area. I wear plastic panties every time I go out if I’m anticipating a messy accident. Even then, I sometimes wear one just to be safe. Feeling safe, and using things to help me feel safe, have been really helpful in this challenge because it gives me the peace of mind to keep pushing forward. It’s been almost two years and I have not given up.
I know I need to get over myself and stop worrying about changing a messy diaper in public but it’s so nerve-wracking. It’s scary; just as scary as it was getting over changing a wet diaper in public. However, I’ve been searching for single room bathrooms where only one person can be inside at a time. Changing a messy diaper in a stall would just suck and be so scary.
I went out to a local Mexican restaurant with my parents last week. I’ve always loved eating nachos, especially if they’re drenched in queso. I’ve been eating them less and less as of late because I have a near-immediate negative reaction to them now. Yes, I know I’m stupid for eating them but I can’t help it sometimes; I just have a need to eat nachos. After we had finished eating dinner, my stomach was twisting itself into a knot so tight that I knew I was going to make a mess in minutes. With my home so far away, I was glad when they got up to go. I scurried back to my car with a slight waddle, praying that I would be able to make it home in time so I could mess in the safety of my home.
I didn’t make it.
It’s been getting really hard to hold #2 these last several months because I’ve conditioned myself to let my body take care of its needs. It’s what the diaper is for, after all, and I no longer view messing as a negative thing. I was able to make it to the fourth stop light from home before I tried to pass a little gas. I think you can guess what happened. Since I felt so much relief from letting some out, and since the light was still red, I lifted my butt off of the seat and pushed as hard as I could. The relief came almost immediately, though my stomach still churned like it was telling me I wasn’t done yet. I winced as I sat down in the hot mess, trying to keep it from squishing up front where my sensitive bits are. It wasn’t the solid kind of mess that I prefer; it was the complete opposite. 
I will admit that the sheer helplessness of the whole situation was a huge turn on. Being unable to keep myself from using my diaper like that, even though I fought hard and valiantly, was all useless in the end. My body knows that I’ve been wearing diapers for so long that it just knows by now that it can do whatever it wants and I’m fine with that.
I showed up to my home with a very full diaper. Thankfully, I had worn a pair of plastic panties, so I wasn’t smelling anything at all. I was super grateful that I didn’t notice any of my neighbors out and about; I would have avoided them like the plague at all costs if they came near me.
Lastly, I've been considering doing challenges to lessen my time since I have so much time left. I'm thinking about doing erotic hypnosis tracks that'll help keep me going in pursuit of my messing goals. Some may include messing on a trigger word, messing at night, and more. I'm still looking around. I was thinking listening twice would take off a week's worth of time and once the effect has taken permanent hold, I'd take off a month's worth of time. I want to keep this challenge fun and interesting.  
If you’d like to keep this challenge going, you can send me gifts to add time onto the timer. Check the pinned post for how much time stuff adds.
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Thanks for reading!
Current Ending Time: April 11, 2026 (2 years, 10 months more!)
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wwinterwitch · 1 year
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questions — joel miller x fem!reader
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summary: after a night at the bar, joel walks you home and you finally confess what has been on your mind since the night everything fell apart pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 3.9k warnings and tags: doesn't really follow canon but sill minor spoilers for ep. 6 i guess?, angst with a good ending, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, joel being joel, miscommunication, sharing feelings go wrong, i'm not used to write angsty fics i'm sorry if this sucks author's note: omg omg happy finale day!! i wrote this listening to question...? by taylor swift so that's what inspired this concept, also this was supposed to be a tiny little blurb idk how we got to almost 4k words but okay i guess
a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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Before tonight you were fine.
You barely even thought about him in that way. You barely remember the way his skin feels against yours, or the way a simple kiss from him would leave you begging for more. It was like all those nights you two would stay up talking about whatever, his arms around you and your back pressed against his chest, never existed.
Training your heart not to long for him and your brain to keep him out of your thoughts was no easy job at first. It was almost impossible for your body not to want him close. Not being able to talk to him about whatever was on your mind and knowing he no longer will reach out to share even his most profound secrets was absolute torture. Walking next to him all day without being able to reach out for his hand or stop for a quick second just to hold him close to you was a living nightmare that you couldn't wake up from.
Because how could he be so easy to forget? Joel Miller. The first and only person you've fallen in love with. That special someone that opened up a door to a whole new world that you never realized you were dying to discover until he was standing in front of you, his extended hand being an open invitation to walk all these unfamiliar roads and witness the beauty of it all together.
It was new and scary and beautiful. You were addicted to loving him before you even realized exactly what it was. From the moment you were able to put a name to this new feeling he taught you, you vowed to be his for as long as he'll have you- but what a shame it was to realize that the ending to a seemingly long story was already written at the very back of the page.
Perhaps your love blinded you enough to believe he had fallen just as hard, only to realize he was still standing at the edge of the precipice, staring down as you fell into the darkness of the abyss. Perhaps it's the fact that death is all around that makes it impossible for anything to be born. Why would you be able to live a fairytale in the middle of a horror show? What could possibly make you so special?
At least he doesn't seem to be affected by the fact that you two drifted apart. It's not like he's the best at sharing his feelings to other people, his ever-frowning gaze always present in his face no matter the circumstance, but you were still hoping that maybe he cared enough to show you he's hurting even just a little bit.
That should be comforting, right? To know he's perfectly fine and that you never cross his mind in that way. He doesn't have the need to apologize or make it right. He doesn't regret what happened and it never plays back in his head as he curses at himself for not doing things differently. You and your...relationship? are that easy to forget.
No. It's not comforting at all. If anything, it makes everything worse.
You can still remember the night you told him you loved him. A moment in your painfully short history together that you wish you could erase. A disappointing ending to what could've been an absolute masterpiece.
Ellie was already asleep and the two of you were keeping watch. He insisted you should get some sleep but you wanted to stay with him. He wasn't a fan of showing you any type of affection since Ellie joined the two of you, so the nights are the only chance you have to be closer. It was like the moon and stars were your best of friends at that point, because they meant he could finally be yours.
The confession slipped from your lips in a quiet whisper. A simple and timid "I think I'm falling in love with you" was all you offered. It's not hard to remember the way your hands would slightly tremble, or the rapid beating of your heart. It's as unforgettable as the confidence you were feeling because despite being so nervous, you were certain that he'll say it back.
He never did. He didn't say it back that night, or the morning after, or any other morning that followed.
It was embarrassing to look back on it now that you know what happened next. You were snuggled up next to him, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes were fixated on the fireplace that helped to make the chilling air of the night a little more tolerable.
Staring at his handsome complexion without his permission was probably one of your favorite things to do. He had confided in you a couple of times that he couldn't understand why you enjoy it so much. That he's not this breathtaking sight that deserves to be contemplated in the way you do.
Truth is, he's the most hypnotizing sight of all. You didn't care about the roughness of his features or the years visible in the corner of his eyes, hair and beard. He's gorgeous and unique and yours. You could stare at him for hours and never get tired of it.
Like many times before, he caught you staring at him. And just like those times before, he made a gesture that should tell you he disliked that habit of yours, only to be betrayed by the smirk timidly forming on his lips not so long after.
It was then, with his eyes staring back at yours, that the verbal proclamation of your love for him invaded the quietness of the night.
And that's when his smirk magically disappeared. His eyes became dark with something you couldn't quite decipher at the time, still staring back at you but not really. It was clear he wasn't there with you anymore, too lost in his own thoughts to truly acknowledge your presence anymore.
Before you could even think of saying something else, he surprised you with an almost robotic "I think you should get some sleep".
Feeling more heartbroken and confused than ever, you did exactly that. You got up and joined Ellie, cuddling up in your sleeping bag with your back facing him. It's still a mystery to you how you were able to cry yourself to sleep that night without making a sound. How you were able to control the hurricane of emotions after telling the love of your life how you feel and him not caring about it in the slightest.
And suddenly, being in love was still new and scary but it had turned into something horrible.
You had to spend every second of every day with him after that, pretending nothing ever happened. He never brought it up either, so you decided to ignore it to avoid making a fool of yourself again. His reaction was enough to let you know he never really loved you, so you ran with it and tried to continue knowing whatever you two had or could have was no more.
But it was still difficult at times. Ellie kept asking you questions regarding you and Joel even weeks after the incident. She's not stupid. She could see you two weren't exactly friends, no matter how hard Joel tried to convince her otherwise. She's also not someone who settles for made up excuses or half truths, which made her push the subject until she got a good enough answer. That's why she continued coming to you for answers, because she knew he'll never talk about it.
It was only when you explicitly confirmed you two weren't just friends before quickly telling her it was completely over that she eventually let it be. After that, she also started to pretend nothing happened.
Jackson became pretty much the light at the end of a pitch back tunnel you thought was never-ending. You were excited to meet new people and have new things to do during the day, knowing it'll help to keep you busy, forcing Joel out of your head.
It was so exciting in fact, that it helped to make it seem as if the quick "she's the one I've been traveling with" that Joel used to introduce you to his brother wasn't that terrible.
Tommy, who much to your luck was nothing like his big brother, made sure to show you around and introduce you to a few people. He got you a house so you and Ellie could settle in and helped you find a job at the local library, officially starting your new life that didn't revolve around Joel.
In time, you found your place in the commune (as you and Ellie love to call it to tease Tommy). Joel was slowly becoming just a bad chapter in a much bigger story that you started to write for yourself, and you're loving the new plot that's unfolding across the blank pages.
However, all of that progress came crashing down tonight. Tommy's birthday was being celebrated at the local bar and there was no way you would ever miss it. Not only has he become a very good friend, but you also needed the distraction.
The familiar faces, the food and drinks made you forget about Joel's presence for most of the night and you barely made the effort to acknowledge his presence. Without being able to prevent it, your eyes accidentally met for a few seconds. It was almost sickening that everything about that half-a-second-look was so much like a movie. You were laughing at something a friend had said before you finished your third drink of the night, casually scanning the room to catch Joel already looking your way.
He smiled and you barely smiled back before focusing on the conversation with your friends again as if nothing happened. The alcohol might have motivated you enough to just not care anymore. To show him you really couldn't care any less to try to be nice after he was such an asshole when you were completely vulnerable before him.
The idea of not caring seemed tempting. Thinking the alcohol was helping, you continued drinking until you forgot about pretty much everything- which didn't take that long considering your alcohol resistance wasn't that good after a long time without drinking. You don't care about Joel, or the hours passing by, or the fact that you're probably making a complete fool of yourself giggling and dancing with a few friends that are probably as drunk as you are, if not more.
All the hype from being intoxicated started to wear off after a while, becoming more and more sleepy until you were practically dragging your feet towards the exit, putting on your coat and hat to prepare for the cold night outside.
"Looks like you had a good time," you hear Tommy comment in a mocking tone, sending a sympathetic smile your way.
"I did! Thanks for inviting me. And happy birthday to you again!" you exclaim cheerfully. "I hope I didn't make a fool of myself tonight."
"Oh, you definitely did," he mocked, chuckling lightly. "But hey, those dance moves you were pulling off back there? Best birthday gift I'll ever receive."
You looked positively embarrassed after his comment, but managed to laugh it off. "I guess that's good."
"It is," he immediately reassures you. "Let's get you home now, okay?"
"Oh, you don't have to go with me. You can't leave your own birthday party. It's okay, I got it."
"I want to make sure you get home safe. It's fine."
"Tommy, please. You should stay and have fun."
"I won't have fun if I'm worrying about you all night."
"I can take her," you suddenly hear Joel's voice behind you, which immediately made you roll your eyes because you really didn't want him around. He noticed the gesture but didn't seem to care about it in the slightest, putting on his jacket. "I was heading out anyway."
Tommy couldn't have known you really didn't want to be around his older brother, completely unaware of your history with him. Perhaps if you told him, he'll insist on going with you or find someone else that could walk you home. But you never told him what happened, so you're stuck with Joel. "Okay, great. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you for coming," he says, allowing the two of you to leave.
The first few minutes outside in the snow have got to be the most awkward minutes of your entire life.
You tried not to stumble despite still being a bit drunk, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. You're mad that he's here with you and you can't stand being alone with him.
"Did you have fun tonight?"
Oh, and of course he had to open his mouth. Because when has Joel ever done what you want him to do? It seems like he'll always do exactly the opposite of what you expect from him.
"Yes," was all you said.
"Just yes?" he tried again.
"Yes."
You heard him sigh. "So, no talking?"
"I'd really like that, actually."
The tone of your voice would've been enough to make him shut up for the entire walk. Even he seemed to be a little taken aback by the honesty of your answer because you could feel him staring at you for longer than usual before he focused on his boots as they left marks on the snow.
He didn't ask what was wrong because deep down he must've known. He can't not know. And in that drunken state you allowed yourself to be pity as you wished that he thinks about it every single day. That it tortures him. That he despises himself for breaking your heart and not doing something to make it right. That he looks back on it and hopes that he could go back.
But does he? Does he actually think about it every single day? Does he regret what happened? And if he does, why is he not trying to say he's sorry? Does he even want to say something at all?
It was almost as if the alcohol betrayed you. Or maybe it was your head that just allowed every barrier you have built these past few weeks to crumble down. Not caring turned into caring way too much and it was like you couldn't stop thinking about a hundred questions without being able to find a single answer to any of them.
Joel turns to look at you once again when he notices you stopped walking. Your head is spinning as more and more questions fill up your mind and you get frustrated because you know there's only one person who has all the answers.
Should you say something? Should you make a fool of yourself once again? It shouldn't be you. Why is he not doing something? How come you're the one who has to speak up about this? It's not fair.
But it was late, cold and you were just so drunk. And you know that no matter how much you try to move on, you'll never be truly okay until you hear an explanation as to why he broke your heart in such a vicious way. Even if he lies or tries to sugarcoat it, you deserve even the tiniest of explanations.
"Is everything okay?" he eventually asks, which only frustrates you more.
"Do you ever think about that night?" you let out almost immediately after, feeling the way your heart was beating faster than ever. As fast as the time you confessed your love for him.
He was quiet, so you decided to continue. "Do you ever wish you could go back and change the way it ended? Does...does it ever cross your mind or you seriously don't care?"
After those questions, Joel seemed to finally react. "Are we seriously doing this now?"
"If not now, when? You were clearly not going to say anything," you accused him, leaving him completely defenseless because he was very much avoiding ever bringing this up and you just called him out on it. "I just need to know why, Joel."
"I don't- let's get you home, okay?"
"Stop doing that! Stop trying to avoid this!" you exclaimed with obvious exasperation, feeling the corner of your eyes burning due to the tears that would surely roll down your cheeks at any point. "I was in love with you and you weren't decent enough to at least tell me you didn't feel the same way! Don't you think I deserved at least that?"
"We can talk about this tomorrow..."
"No, fuck that. I waited long enough," you quickly interrupted. "I was so patient with you. I gave you your space when you said you weren't sure about us, I respected your decision of being discreet in front of Ellie, I stood up for you countless of times when I shouldn't have. I did so much for you and you can't even look me in the eye and give me an explanation!"
"It's not-"
"You've got to be the biggest asshole I've ever met. And you know what's the worst part of this? That I'm still expecting shit from you. I still hope that you'll say you're sorry for breaking my heart and acting like you never did something wrong. I'm so fucking stupid to believe that you actually-"
"I was afraid!" he practically shouted, hoping that would stop your rambling. It seemed to work, because you were silent as soon as he said that. "There. Are you happy?"
"Don't put this on me," you immediately snap back.
Joel sighs yet again and takes a second to calm down, knowing that if he gets defensive this will end much worse. It's time to accept he fucked up and stop trying to act like he didn't.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "For this and for what I said that night. I should've been honest with you."
Now it was you the one who was silent, taken aback by his reaction. Usually, he'll try to come on top by creating any type of argument until he's able to get the last word. An actual apology was definitely not something you were expecting.
"I don't like people. I keep my distance and everyone else stay away from me in return. I like distance," he explains. "But then you came along and it was impossible to stay away. No matter how hard I tried, I'd always come back to you. I started to need you and it was scary because I should be keeping my distance."
Silence. Absolute silence. You were surprised to hear him being so honest with you, but you were also feeling a bit nostalgic because deep down you missed being the person Joel would go to when he needed someone to talk to. Even when it was difficult for him to open up, he always tried his best to rely on you whenever he needed it. Needless to say, it made you feel very special.
"When you said you loved me I didn't know what to do. It felt so...definitive. Because I knew that deep down I was falling for you too and if I said something that'd mean I'd never be able to let you go. And it was so scary to think of giving in to that feeling because...because I couldn't allow myself to care again."
You knew exactly what he meant by that. His daughter is not a topic he particularly enjoys bringing up, but you've heard a few things about her. And honestly, you couldn't really blame him for being scared. Despite all these years, losing his kid in the way he did has got to be the worst pain he'll ever experience. Of course he'll want to run away in the opposite direction when he starts seeing the similarities.
It doesn't excuse the fact that he avoided you, but you would never pretend like his feelings weren't valid.
He was scared of loving you because with love comes the inevitable attachment to that person forever. You care so deeply, the mere idea of ever losing that person shatters your world completely. And he knows what that loss feels like. He couldn't experience that again.
"Besides, you know me. You know I'm a mess. I couldn't let you ruin your life by loving me, because I'd just let you down- which I did, so I was right. So instead of saying something, I just said what I thought would help to make you not love me anymore. If I couldn't keep my distance, I had to do something so you'll want to stay away from me."
Once again, Joel was doing exactly the opposite of what you expected. He poured his heart out to you, sounding so honest and vulnerable. You've only heard him being this sincere whenever he would mention Sarah or that one time when you both stayed up talking in depth about your relationship with Ellie.
Tears started to roll down your cheeks as predicted as you stared at him. You don't know whether to hug him or punch him at this point.
"You're such an asshole," was all you could say.
The comment made him chuckle, but it was evident he was holding back his own tears. "I know."
"But that's exactly why I loved you. I know what you've been through, I knew you were a challenge and I was willing to work on it for as long as it would take us. The decision of whether I wanted to love you or not was never yours to make."
"I was trying to save you from having to deal with me."
"What if I didn't want to be saved?"
"Well, I think it's already too late for that," he replied. There was another pause that encouraged him to ask, "Is it? Too late?"
"I don't know," you replied. It was the truth.
"I can work with I don't know."
"What does that mean?" you asked curiously, wiping your tears away.
"It means I'm willing to make it right this time," he replied. "If you let me."
You frowned just a little, failing to hold back the smile that appeared on your face just seconds later. "You know you'll have to really try if you want to fix this, right?"
"I know. It's okay. You're worth it."
So far, so good, you thought.
"This means no more hiding, no more trying to push me away, talking about your feelings..."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" you asked in a much more serious tone. It sucked not being able to fully trust his word, but you both know you had your reasons not to. "I just don't want to get my hopes up again over nothing."
You watched as Joel took a step closer to you, reaching out to grab one of your hands. He examines your face, making sure you're okay with him touching you before he brings it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. "I promise you this time will be different," he says, and he's looking at you with so much affection, it's impossible not to trust him.
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venusgirltarot · 11 months
Text
Messages For You! ♡
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Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.
This is something new that I’m trying! This reading will be intuitive messages for you based on your current energy. This will be short and pretty straight to the point (hopefully) and can maybe bring you some sort of peace and clarification on your current situation!
If you would like a personal reading from me, check my paid readings post here
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Pile 1 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
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Hello, Pile 1! You may be going through some sort of struggle with a significant other or someone close to you. This feels ruthless and brutal. This seems like someone you’re very close with and have a very strong bond/healthy relationship with but a big change in your current life/relationship has caused issues maybe due to added stress or a new environment that the two of you are not used to. This could be a new baby, a new home, a big move to a job change, etc. it feels like you’re on shaky ground. I keep hearing “haunted” by Taylor Swift. These arguments seem to be full of hurtful words that you two throw at each other. You two may even be weaponizing the others past issues or traumas and none of this is really like you guys and this is not normal for your relationship.
Despite all of the arguing and hurtful words, there’s still so much love that the two of you have for each other and it doesn’t seem like either of you want to walk away, you’re just lost and confused in your situation. I heard “clouded judgement” you don’t feel like this person is taking your feelings into consideration or taking the time to see where you are coming from and they don’t understand what you’re trying to say or what you need/want because you’re not expressing it to them or you are but in a very aggressive/hurtful way.
You both may be lashing out at each other and it’s not helping the situation. Self reflection is so important and so is being kind and gentle and taking the time to understand each other. You both need to hear each other out and really listen. If you don’t understand what the other needs/wants, it’s okay to say “I’m sorry but I’m not understating what you’re asking of me” and it’s okay to walk away from a conversation and take time to breathe and calm down before it turns into an argument.
Change can be difficult and scary but it’s important to know that you’re not going through this change alone. Vulnerability and communication are so important in a relationship and it’s okay to tell your person that you’re scared of this change and what it means for the future because they’re probably feeling the same. I think knowing that you two are struggling with the same fears and anxieties will really help you connect and understand each other. Before I end this reading, I want to include the meaning of the Strength card in the guide book of this deck because I felt it was really important for your situation.
“Remember that Strength is not always loud, and is not always noticeable. Do not rely on others to validate your courage, look inward instead. You are the only one who will recognize the work you have done.”
Anytime I have a reading that includes conflict/fighting, I like to include a disclaimer that this is not for abusive relationships! Specifically for this group, it seems like a couple that is going through a difficult time and having verbal arguments. If you are struggling with physical/mental abuse, please do not use this reading as a reason to stay! Always do what’s best for you and your health/safety.
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Pile 2 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
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Hello, pile two. I believe you’re going through some sort of breakup to separation. This feels very big and significant. This could be a breakup from someone you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. You also may have had a lot invested into this relationship. Maybe you have a home or car with this person or maybe pets or children.
This part if very specific and will only resonate with a few or maybe one of you but you may be apart of the LGBTQ+ community and maybe this is your first relationship after coming out or your first relationship with a person of the same sex. Your family may not have been supportive or broke contact so you may have conflicted feelings right now. You don’t want to go back to hiding yourself or pretending to be someone you’re not but this peeps may have been your main support system after these issues with your family and losing this person has put you in a very difficult position.
For some, you may be struggling with this persons family. Possible legal issues if marriage, children or a shared home is involved. You may even be struggling to get custody of a pet the two of you got together. This person may have lied to you or broken promises over and over again. I think this is a relationship you wanted to work more than anything. You had so much invested in this relationship and you’ve watched it fall apart as you’ve tried to put the pieces back together but one person can’t fix what two people have broken together. You were the only one fighting and trying to fix this and you couldn’t keep doing it by yourself. I just heard “walking away was the right decision” I heard “you did the right thing, baby” that second statement felt like it came from an older female, a mother or grandmother or aunt. Someone very wise and nurturing. I also keep hearing “you’re losing me” by Taylor Swift. Specifically “Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? / I'm getting tired even for a phoenix / Always risin' from the ashes / Mendin' all her gashes / You might just have dealt the final blow
Your energy doesn’t feel sad or angry or hurt even though you have every right to feel all of those things, it just feels numb. You don’t feel anything and I’m so incredibly sorry that you’ve been hurt and broken so much that you’re pushed to the point of no emotion. I’m so sorry that your mind and body are so exhausted that you don’t have it in you to feel anything anymore. I want you to know that I’m proud of you and I’m sorry if you haven’t heard that enough. What you did and the steps you took took so much strength and courage and you deserve credit for that. Not only from those around you but also from yourself.
Choose yourself. Every morning wake up and choose yourself the way you would want a romantic partner to choose you. Give yourself the love you wanted so badly from this person but never got. Utilize your support system, don’t be afraid to reach out to other supports systems. Finding groups online that know what you’re going through. Groups for divorce, groups for those in the LGBTQ+ community, groups for single parents, etc. you’re not alone and there are people who care. There’s people in this world that you haven’t met just yet but they’re going to love you fiercely and unconditionally and they will never put you in a place where you have to question the love they have for you or worry about them walking away. They will show you that every part of you is beautiful and worth knowing. You are worth knowing and I hope that you know that.
Stick around, pile 2. You’re going to be okay and things are going to get better. Repeat that to yourself. “I am going to be okay and things are going to get better” you are strong and worthy and capable of doing so so much. This person isn’t here to hold you back anymore so don’t hold yourself back the same way they did. Take this time to get to know you. Learn who you are without them and become the best version of yourself, the version of yourself you deserve to be and the version of yourself that they kept you from becoming whether, they did that intentionally or not. I love you and I’m proud of you and I’m so excited to see what you turn your future into because it’s yours now and you get to make that choice. You’re going to do great things, Pile 2. I’m glad you’re here.
This reading is already so long so I’m going to try to keep this last part short but I just wanted to thank you for allowing me into your energy. I’ve teared up so many times throughout this reading and I’ve never gotten this emotional during a reading before. You seem like incredibly kind and beautiful people, pile 2. I hope you’re doing okay. Take care of yourself, you deserve that love and care from yourself. Please don’t forget that.
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Pile 3 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。
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Hello, pile 3! Your energy was kind of hard to tap into but I’m going to do my best to give you as much information as possible. I think you are allowing your past to hold you back from a beautiful future. For some of you, this could be about career or finances but for a majority, this is about love/romance.
I keep getting so many different scenarios so I think this pile might end up being the most popular, it seems like there’s a lot of you here. For some, you may have had a shitty ex boyfriend that didn’t ever do anything for you or ever care and eventually you got tired of it and left and you may have built a very successful life or maybe you’re in the process of building a very successful life for yourself. I heard “you chose yourself and everything else fell into place” I also keep hearing “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet so this new person that has come into your life might be older than you.
For others, you may be newly divorced and possibly older and possibly you feel like you’re not young enough to be dating around (Which is not true! Don’t hold yourself back!) but I think someone has come into your life (possibly someone you met on a dating app) that you really like. You might have children and I think this person does as well possibly the same age as yours and it seems like you two have so much in common. You may have fallen out of love in your last relationship and stuck around out of convenience or obligation or your children (if you have any) so you didn’t get the chance to experience of true genuine connection with someone that shares the same interests and qualities as you do so this is like a net exciting adventure for you.
For the first time in a relationship or romantic situation, there’s this person that’s taking genuine interest in you as person. You may notice they remember small things that you may have mentioned to them shortly. Like you may go on a walk together and you pass tulips and you say something like “oh I love tulips! They’re my favorite” and they may not say anything back or there may not be a whole conversation that comes of it but the next time you see them, they bring you tulips. You may tell them about your favorite book and then a few weeks later you find out that went out and bought the book and then read it so they can talk to you about it.
There’s an effort coming from this person that you’ve never had in any past relationship and although it’s nice and exciting, it’s also scary. Sometimes in life, when we’re so used to something being a certain way or things going wrong or relationships being bad, we panic when things are good because we’re just waiting for it to fall through. For everything to fall apart and come crumbling down just so we can adjust back into the chaos that we’re so used to. Don’t let this fear of the unknown and this familiar chaos take something good away from you. You deserve happiness and peace and a comfortable life, don’t try to convince yourself otherwise. When good things come in, accept them because there are yours to accept and you are deserving of those good things. Don’t let a difficult past hold you back from a beautiful future that you are so deserving of.
Before I leave I just want to add that I had my curtains open when doing this reading and it was a little cloudy and gloomy when I started but by the end of the reading the sun was shining really bright through my window and I thought it paired so well with your reading. Open the curtains and let the sunshine in, pile 3. You deserve it :)
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I hope this reading has brought you some sort of peace, clarification, or happiness! Feedback is always appreciated :) have a good day or night. Sending you love and light!
࿐ mara
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thesoleilla · 4 months
Note
I've seen your work on Chuuya x Reader, and it's so sweet. Could you do the Chuuya comforting reader who is very afraid of going to the doctor? The reader is stubborn and still doesn't want to go to the doctor, but Chuuya still insists on bringing her to a doctor, and maybe he uses a little bit of force. Thank you.
But I don't wanna go to the doctor! Chuuya x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: God this is old, picked it up like a year after, sorry I swear I'll work on my requests...someday
"This was pretty darn good, wasn't it?" Chuuya said, as you both left the movie theater
"Yeah, I wondered what all the hype was about, and now I know why, the Barbie movie is awesome!" You kept rambling on and on about the movie as you both left the theater.
But as soon as you passed through the door, a cold breeze hit you, surprising you heavily; you did leave the theater quite late after all...
However, Chuuya noticed instantly as you started shivering from the pretty strong wind, and he immediately started giving you his coat.
Except you knew he had an important mission tomorrow, and besides, you were tired of him always looking out for you! He needed to care about himself too!
"No no, it's fine, keep it on, I'll be fine!"
Long story short, you were not.
Yes, you had managed to get him to keep his coat on, which did take him repeatedly calling you stubborn for a while but it was worth it, you could show him wrong and exhibit that you could take care of yourself on your own!
....except you couldn't, and were now stuck in bed as Chuuya stayed home to care for you.
"Please, Chuuya, I swear I'm gonna be okay! Just go to work, I can care for myself..." the reoccuring coughs weren't helping with your credibility, to say the least.
Chuuya sighed, slowly getting tired of your persistance, "I'm taking you to the doctor"
You frowned, your eyes widening as you got more confident in your denial, "What? No...I am not going to the doctor..." You looked down to the floor, not knowing how to convince him. "Just...please...I.. don't wanna go there"
He frowned at your sudden display of panic, worrying "What's wrong with going to the doctor?"
You mumbled under your breath, looking around the floor in order to find something more interesting to dissociate about "This...this is going to sound silly. It's just..I've been afraid of doctors ever since I was a kid and...since I kept avoiding it it just...kept getting stronger"
Chuuya rubbed his eyebrows together, grunting in frustration before picking you up in his arms. "We're going to the doctor, whether you like it or not."
And after a ten minute walk of you complaining and Chuuya stating he won't even let you down because, "you're too sick to walk on your own" you got to the doctor. Instantly, as you noticed you were approaching the institution, your body started shivering on his own, though, Chuuya being here did help in calming you down.
But in the end, as he held your hand throughout all the steps, in the end it wasn't so scary as you thought. And slowly but surely, you finished the check-up, getting diagnosed with a mild cold, the doctor stating that there was no reason to be worried.
"See? I told you it wouldn't be that bad!"
"And I told you it wasn't anything major!"
"Whatever..."
A/N lmao this is so ooc help like all of these paragraphs were written a month apart from one another sorryzzz
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indiaalphawhiskey · 11 months
Note
Hii India
You already said a few things about Harry taking a break.. now that the last show is over and Harry saying goodbye over Instagram, what do you think?
A lot of people have the opinion he’s going to be gone for quite a while now. Whatever it is I’m glad he’s taking the break. For me it’s a confirmation that he’s still dealing with the mess that fame is in a healthy way and I’m going to be here for when he decides to come back. I’m going to miss him so much though.
And I would love to hear your take on things. Do you think this is a goodbye for a longer time period? Or is it more an goodbye for him, to be okay with the fact that things might never be the same as they were during this tour? That his fame is changing and he accepts that he doesn’t have to control it?
Hi, love 🩵
Hmm. So, I can’t believe I’m actually going to say this, but practically speaking, for the first time, the set up of a new stunt is a hopeful sign. If they’re finding a way to keep Harry in the press, however low the profile (🤞🏼), it’s for a reason. My hunch is that he is tying up with Loewe in some way, and in that sense, I don’t think it will be long ‘til we see him again, physically (however infrequently).
But, I also think touring is tougher than he makes it seem, physically, mentally and emotionally. I think all the things he realized during COVID, about being a better son/brother/friend (and partner) is a driving force in this seemingly more urgent need to find balance. It’s certainly a shift from the way he was working/talking during Fine Line, but I also think that’s the point.
He’s now in a very rare “natural” break in his career as a musician. We haven’t had any confirmation that he’s re-signed with Columbia (although I have no doubt that he has), so for all intents and purposes, he’s currently publicly free from professional obligation for the first time in a long time (at least in terms of his music) and that is going to feel very, very odd for someone who’s been working essentially non-stop (whether in the spotlight or behind the scenes) for over a decade. I think that novelty and sense of impermanence is something he’s trying really hard to embrace; to meet with excitement rather than fear. So, for the most part, I stand by my original thoughts.
But, if I can add:
I think Harry is the kind of person that is very aware of the gravity of fate and sheer magic that has gone into his success. You can see it in the way he talks about there being “no reason he should be getting to do this instead of anyone else” and how “we’re all the same” and “this doesn’t happen to people like me very often”. In this way, I think there’s a constant groundedness about his person and an acceptance of the vulnerability of his career and his success — in other words, he knows that lighting really might not strike thrice, and I think he’s preparing himself for that. There was a moment on the last Late Late show, when he was comparing himself to Will Ferrell and he said something like “Will has longevity and I’m more a flash in the pan” (untrue, but I digress) and what struck me about that line was how acutely aware he is that things can change for him at any moment. It’s similar to his “whatever people say about you, it’s not true. If people say you’re the best thing ever, it’s not true” quote on Howard Stern; like I think it’s one of the themes of his life, having to have a firm hold on reality so that the ‘inevitable’ crash is manageable.
He also seems to be trying to learn from the lives of other musicians/celebrities, and take those lessons to heart by applying them to his life and his work. in the end, I think what he’s trying to do is just accept that there are no guarantees; that he doesn’t know and has no control over whatever happens to the world while he’s away or what he’s returning to. I think the reason it sounds so definitive and scary and existential is because it is all of those things, for him. This is a big change, and he’s giving it its space and weight for the first time, because it is the first time he’s been able to say a proper goodbye (1D hiatus was rushed, HS1 went directly into FL, FL ended abruptly during COVID… there’s a pattern.)
Bottom line though, is that I know for certain Harry fucking loves music and touring. It’s a compulsion, for him. It’s in his DNA. And that’s why I’m not scared that he’ll leave forever, because I’ve always hard the feeling his music nourishes him just as much (if not more) than it nourishes us. He does what he does for himself, and we’re a bonus, and as an artist, that is the best reason to do anything and the only reason to keep coming back to it, regardless of the uncertainty that awaits him.
Not to make this novel any longer than it is, but I’ve also had a recent thought that occurred to me: Harry is 29, which means he’s currently going through his Saturn return.
I’ve asked my therapist (who is also an astrologist) for a bit more literature on Saturn returns, cause I’m super curious about how that might be affecting him. (For background, all my friends got married around the times of their Saturn return, and both my best friend and I picked up and moved halfway across the world during ours so at least for the people in my life, it seems like it is consistent with big change, and from the way Harry is talking, it seems it might be affecting him the same way.) I’ll get back to you. 😉🪐
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